


Missed Connections

by Exdraghunt



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Multi, others tags before each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exdraghunt/pseuds/Exdraghunt
Summary: A collection of one-shots, AUs, and pointless porn in the StEx universe.





	1. Electra/Purse: Aftercare

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Electra/Purse  
> Rating: Mature (sex is mentioned but not performed)  
> Tags: BDSM/ Aftercare

 

                Electra carefully returned the last toy to its proper place, then made his way back to his berth. Curled up amongst the lush, thick blankets and enormous fluffy pillows was the dark, thin figure of Purse. The shackles and chains had been removed, the ball gag placed aside to be washed in the morning, and now the money truck lay bare.

                 Gingerly, Electra climbed onto the berth and slipped under the covers to spoon his component. Purse was an odd one. Well, they all were in their own way. The money truck was always perfectly precise in everything he did, never a mistake or misstep. It was difficult for even Electra to find fault in anything he did.

                 And yet, when they were alone, Purse would beg to be punished. To pretend he had done something so horrid there was no choice but to receive physical reprimand. He seemed to especially like when Electra would ‘fire’ him and then punish him accordingly.

                 Electra didn’t quite understand it, but was more than willing to indulge his component. Even though he couldn’t help but get a little nervous when the whips came out, or the chains, or when Purse would scream until his vocalizer gave out.

                 There was none of that now though. Just Electra and Purse, in the most comfortable, expensive bedding good money could buy. Like sleeping in a cloud.

                 Moving until he was crouched over Purse, Electra bent down until he could lick and suck at the marks decorating the money truck’s elegant neck. Doing his best to remove the scuffs his collar had left behind. Purse moaned and moved his head back, allowing his master better access.

                Sex, however, was not the objective. Now was the time for comfort. Electra changed to giving kisses, pressing his glittering lips to every scuff and scrape on Purse’s armor. Neck, to collarbones, to chest. Electra then picked up one of Purse’s delicate hands, rubbing where the handcuffs had sat about his wrists before giving each knuckle a brush of his lips.

                 “You are such a good component.” Electra whispered as he worked. It was very important to build Purse back up after spending more than an hour tearing him down. “Always on time, always keeping track of what I forget. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

                 “Go broke.” Purse spoke for the first time, voice hoarse.

                 “Probably.” Electra chuckled in amusement. “I would certainly lose control over the others without you.”

                 “That’s what Wrench is for.” Purse retorted.

                 “No, that is what I have you for.” No more time for talking. Electra silenced the money truck with a kiss to the lips, their painted perfection meeting in a clash of red, blue, and white. For a little while, the only sound was the pair’s soft moans and the rustling of the fabric sheets. Finally, reluctantly, Electra pulled back. “Now be silent. It is time for me to care for you.”

                 Purse decided it was best not to argue. Instead, he just let himself go limp and relax his aching body into the berth. Electra manipulated him until he was lying comfortably on his side, just so the electric engine could spoon him from behind. With a soft whirr, Electra’s cooling fans activated, blowing the waste heat from his computer bank out of his body and over Purse like a warm wind. He suddenly found himself so content, he almost didn’t need his master’s command of “sleep” before he was out like a light.


	2. Volta/Wrench Medical play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the funny idea of "What if Wrench has a medical kink, but prefers to receive"
> 
> Characters: Volta/Wrench  
> Rating: Explicit  
> Tags/Warnings: Medical play, needles, sounding, sadistic nurse

 

                “Now then, are you going to be a good patient today?”

                Wrench growled and bared her teeth, struggling against the bonds that trapped her arms behind her back. She had been stripped of her apron and outer armor, ankles shackled together to keep her from running and wrists bound so she couldn’t use her hands. She was completely at the mercy of her “nurse.”

                “Sounds like someone needs another treatment.” Volta pushed Wrench forwards towards the repair table in the middle of the room. The freezer car had donned Wrench’s apron and visor, symbols of the crane car’s office, and was greatly enjoying the reversal of the doctor-patient relationship she normally shared with Wrench. “I see our last session wasn’t enough.”

                There was little Wrench could do to resist as she was pushed onto the repair slab, which then rose up to Volta’s waist-level for easy access to the patient.

                “You’ve been a very disobedient little girl lately.” Volta chastised as she unlocked the wrist restraints, forcing Wrench’s hands to her sides so that the thick leather wrist cuffs could be secured to the repair table instead. The same was done to her ankles, making sure Wrench’s feet were set properly into table’s stirrups and locked down tight.

                Volta stepped away from her patient to spread out an array of tools, enjoying the sight of Wrench struggling on the table. The crane car couldn’t do much strapped down as she was, except make for a very tantalizing sight.

                “You’re sick and twisted, you know that?” Wrench growled as Volta approached once more.

                “Why thank you.” A smile graced Volta’s pale blue lips as she lifted up a cruel-looking gag. “But I think that’s enough talking from you, little lady.”

                Wrench’s struggles intensified as she clamped her mouth shut and tossed her head from side to side. Volta attempted to place the gag; but was forced to give up as Wrench continued to resist.

                “Well, if you’re going to be like that.” Placing the gag to one side, Volta picked up another piece of equipment. A heavy, steel and leather posture collar. With one hand on Wrench’s chin, forcing her head back against the padding of the repair table, Volta buckled the collar around the other component’s neck. The steel frame of the collar dug painfully into Wrench’s throat and collar girdle when she attempted to lower her chin, forcing her to keep her head tilted back with eyes staring at the ceiling.

                “Much better.” Volta returned with the gag and this time managed to insert it into Wrench’s mouth. She choked, trying to force it back out with her tongue, but could do nothing to prevent Volta from buckling the gag behind her head.

                With her ability to toss her head or speak now removed, Wrench continued yanking at her wrist cuffs. They were buckled to sturdy o-rings set into repair table, but perhaps there was a weak spot. A poor stitch or buckling weld.

                The clinking of the cuffs did not escape Volta’s notice, who turned back to her array of tools with a sadistic grin. “Poor baby. If you keep struggling like that, you might hurt yourself. And we don’t want that, do we?”

                As Volta turned back around, Wrench’s eyes fearfully tracked a large syringe in her hand. It was filled with clear liquid, a bit dribbling from the tip of the needle, and Wrench had no doubt where it was intended to go.

                “Are you ready for sedation?” Volta asked rhetorically, knowing full well her patient had no way of answering. “This will keep you nice and calm for what I’m going to do with you.”

                Reaching down, Volta took Wrench’s right hand in a firm grip and turned it to reveal the oil line that ran from shoulder down to the crane car’s delicate finger servos. It was closest to the surface in the gap between elbow padding and forearm plating, so this is where Volta inserted the needle and depressed the plunger.

                Wrench let out a muffled yelp past her gag, drool dribbling past the hard rubber ball stuffed between her teeth, but the sedative was chipping away at her ability to resist as it spread through her lines. A fuzzy, floating feeling spread through her body, making her limbs seem very far away and her engine slow down to a comfortable, relaxed idle.

                “There, isn’t that much better?” Volta crooned, returning the now empty syringe to her tool cache. “Now, I’ve heard that you’ve been a little frustrated lately. Sexually. How about we have a look at that equipment? We need to make sure everything’s okay down there.”

                Without her welding apron, Wrench’s crotch plating was exposed and tantalizingly easy to access. Volta’s nimble fingers found the catch to the crane car’s spike cover, teasing it open so that Volta could apply a little jolt of electricity from an e-stim device in her other hand. Wrench’s hips jerked at the shock, a muffled groan coming from the other end of the table, and her spike pressurized into Volta’s hand.

                “Well, this appears to be working alright.” Volta ran her fingers up and down Wrench’s spike, enjoying the way it twitched, before attaching a heavy steel ring around it’s base. The clever little tool would do double duty making sure Wrench’s spike would stay pressurized and erect, but also prevented overload. “Seems to have full sensitivity.”

                Putting aside the e-stim rod, Volta fetched another metal tool that was much longer and thinner. Even through the haze filling her mind, Wrench was able to recognize it as a rod used for sounding. She craned her neck, trying to see what Volta was doing, but the posture collar prevented her from tilting her head down that far. It was like a sudden rush of sweet fire as the lubricated rod slid down inside the tip of her spike. Ejaculate was meant to come _out_ of that passage, things weren’t supposed to go down it.

                Wrench whined around the gag as Volta played with the sound, sliding it in and out as slowly as she could. It was like having a hand gripped tight around her spike, pumping up and down, only from the _inside_. The sensation was the only thing Wrench could feel past the sedative numbing her systems, though her limbs still jerked against their bindings as pressure began to build in her lower abdomen.

                Volta twisted the sound and Wrench let out a muffle scream. The pressure and pleasure peaked, but no relief came. The ring securely over her spike prevented it, leaving Wrench panting and shaking.

                “Ah ah, the examination isn’t over yet.” Volta taunted as she pulled out the sound and returned it to her tool cache. To replace it, she returned with a different object that resembled scissors with large, flat ends. A speculum. “Your spike seems to be fully functional. Perhaps the issue lies with your valve, hmmm? Let’s have a look.”

                Reaching down to a handle on the side of the repair table, Volta gave it a few rotations to open the table’s stirrups wider. Wrench’s legs were forced to spread apart with them, Volta making sure to take it just to the edge of being uncomfortable. After all, there was nothing Wrench could do about it except jerk her ankles against the straps holding them into the stirrups and groan. At this point, the crane car was too distracted and charged up to concentrate on keeping her valve panel shut. As soon as Volta placed a hand between Wrench’s legs, the panel snapped open and clear lubricant dribbled out.

                “So nice and wet already?” Volta smirked and eased the speculum into Wrench’s valve. It slid in easily with no resistance, though the cold metal still made Wrench hiss. Crouching down, Volta made a show of spreading open the speculum wide so she could peer into the other component’s valve, ignoring the shuddering knees and thighs on either side of her head. “No abrasions or damage from overuse. Shall we test your pain and pleasure sensors?”

                The speculum was removed, but was almost immediately replaced by a large, ribbed vibrator. Volta took great pleasure in stuffing it in as far as it would go, enjoying the way Wrench squirmed and tried to arch her back away from it.

                Wrench’s pelvic girdle was starting to throb from the combination of the over-sized vibrator and pressure of the ring around her spike. She should move, resist, do something, but her mind was working too sluggishly due to the sedative to do anything except sit and take it. Desperately, Wrench tried to plead for relief, to be allowed to come, but the only thing that got past the gag were whines and groans.

                “Aww, is someone enjoying themselves?” Volta reached down to the speed dial on the bottom of the vibrator and turned it up to maximum. Wrench’s engine roared in response, shaking the table, and the crane car did her best to suck in air past her gag to try and cool down her motor. Still, though, even as pleasure peaked, there was no release.

                “Your valve is operating at peak performance.” Volta commented, removing the vibrator and ignoring the harsh panting coming from the other end of the table. “So if your equipment is functioning perfectly, I can only assume the problem must be mental.”

                Walking up towards the head of the repair table, Volta trailed her ice-cold fingers along Wrench’s overheating body and enjoyed the soft whimpers that resulted. “I think this calls for a little electro-shock therapy. It’s the latest thing, I hear from the humans it produces very. . . interesting results.”

                Gently, Volta unbuckled the gag and slipped it from Wrench’s mouth. The crane car took a deep, relieved breath, soft pleading noises falling from her lips. “Pl-please. Please.”

                “Please, what?” Volta prompted, leaning closer.

                “Please. I need. Release. Please, please.” Tears pricked at the corners of Wrench’s eyes.

                “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Volta slipped off the spike ring, but otherwise avoided touching the crane car’s sensitive bits. It wouldn’t do for her to overload _just_ yet.

                The final items fetched from the tool tray were a metal bit and a pair of electro-conductive pads. Volta carefully placed the pads on either side of Wrench’s temples, just below her hairline, and plugged the trailing wiring into her own electrical systems. Then, Volta pressed the metal bit to Wrench’s lips. “You’re going to want something to bite down on.”

                Opening her mouth, Wrench accepted the bit and clenched it between her teeth. Volta revved her engine, sending power to her electrical systems, and prepared to send a charge down the line.

                Wrench tried to steel herself, but there was no real way to prepare for the bolt of electricity that crackled through the contact pads and into her systems. She convulsed on the table, kept in place only by the restraints on her wrists and ankles, posture collar digging in as she attempted to toss her head.

                At the same time, the current finally stimulated overload. All that pressure in her pelvic girdle finally released, silver cum spurting high to splatter all over her abdomen, and everything mercifully went black.

 

 

                Wrench awoke a short time later to the sensation of someone wiping her down with a rag. The restraints and collar had been removed, and the repair table lifted so that she was sitting instead of laying down.

                “Hey,” Volta’s voice was gentle, nothing like the haughty tone she had taken on earlier. “How are you doing?”

                “Hnnnn. Tired.” Wrench managed. The sedative was out of her system, so now the heavy feeling in her limbs was just a result of exhaustion and one hell of a good orgasm. “Thank you.”

                “Of course.” Volta climbed up onto the repair table and cuddled Wrench to her chest. It was an honor to be the only person Wrench trusted like this, to take complete control. Discovering the crane car had a serious medical kink was no surprise, but nobody expected Wrench to enjoy receiving as opposed to giving. She spent so much time as the official doctor for others, being the patient for once was an incredibly satisfying form of release. And Volta was the only component willing to take the time and direction to learn how to perform medical procedures in a proper, safe (if sadistic) way.

                “This still.  .. won’t get you out of that oil change tomorrow.” Wrench sighed and snuggled her face deeper against Volta’s chest before drifting off to sleep.

                “I’d except nothing less.”

               

               


	3. In which Krupp has a baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Electra and components  
> Rating: M (mature themes but no explicit sex)  
> Warnings: Mpreg, lactation
> 
> (this is total AU, from the show and from Greased Lightning. Just felt the need for mpreg Krupp)

 

                “Krupp? Krupp, can you hear me? Acknowledge.”

                “Uhhhnnn. A.  . .acknowledged.” Krupp groaned, barely managing to make out the confirmation that he had indeed heard Wrench. Why was he laying on the repair table, awakening from heavy sedation? Something had happened, but at that moment Krupp couldn’t seem to remember what.

                “Well, he’s alive.” Wrench said, presumably addressing Electra and the other components. “They both are.”

                That brought Krupp abruptly back to reality. That’s why he was currently under the “tender” care of Wrench. Because he’d managed to get himself knocked up, and then neglected to actually tell anyone about it. In hindsight, that had been a rather poor decision on his part.

 

 

                About six months previous, Krupp had willingly gone under the knife at the hands of Wrench for a reformat. Though the armaments car was useful as intimidating muscle with a gun, it was decided that he’d be even more useful if he was upgraded with his own engine. Then, Krupp would be able to act as a generator car for his master when they found themselves at yards and races without handy cantenary lines. As the group travelled across the country, they’d been coming across an irritating number of places like that.

                Krupp, of course, was only too happy to serve his master and immediately went to Wrench to submit himself for upgrading. She had promised it wouldn’t hurt and, for once, Wrench was correct. Krupp simply went to sleep on the repair table; and woke up a month later with a new engine installed in his body.

                “I think we should rename him.” Joule was heard insisting as Krupp groggily awoke on the table. “I mean, that’s what you do when you reformat someone.”

                “He doesn’t need a new name.” Now that was Volta, always a voice of reason against Joule. “What’s wrong with Krupp?”

                “Well, it’s not really that intimidating, is it?” Joule was obviously on a roll. “Oooh, now that he’s a generator, we should call him Kilowatt. Or, even better. Killerwatt.”

                “Joule. We are _not_ calling him Killerwatt.”

                “Why not?”

                “Because it’s dumb.”

                “What-!”

                “Shut up, you two, he’s awake.” Wrench flicked Krupp on the forehead. “Come on, I can tell you’ve come out of sedation. I need to check over your systems to make sure it’s all integrating properly.”

                Krupp managed slowly sit up, finding his body to be incredibly sore but at least not painful, and submitted himself to interrogation on how he was feeling.

 

                After that, life went on much as normal. Electra was determined to show himself off at every race in the country, and so the electric engine travelled with his components from railroad to railroad. Victory frequently ensued, and then victory parties. Which was code for wild orgies involving all the racing engines and their partners. The components didn’t mind so much having to partner up with strange engines when they at least could get themselves a little reward.

                When Krupp started feeling a little queasy after fueling, and occasionally had trouble keeping his diesel down, he didn’t think much of it. Wrench had warned his fueling system would be sensitive after such a big upgrade, and he was still trying to get the hang of drinking diesel anyway. Obviously, something in his system hadn’t quite gotten used to the change yet.

                A little weight gain also occurred without comment. Having a generator engine installed had already added several tons, so Krupp didn’t even notice a few hundred pounds more. He did notice when his abdominal armor started to become uncomfortable, but once again blamed it on the reformat and didn’t bring it to Wrench’s attention. She’d either be irritated over being bothered about something so minor; or would decide he needed a complete systems overhaul. Krupp wasn’t sure which prospect was worse.

                Fortunately, Krupp had long experience at being stoic and never let any of his discomfort show on his face. The other components were fairly used to him being taciturn, and never seemed concerned when he took time to himself to let his nausea settle down after fueling.

                They were so busy with the travelling and the racing and the parties, that Krupp hardly noticed that two months had passed. Then three. His nausea gradually began to fade, much to Krupp’s satisfaction. However, the armor around his midsection was getting more and more uncomfortable. It was as though the steel plates were too small for him, constricting his internals. Krupp began to avoid sitting down, which made his plating pinch in a painful way, and decided to ‘keep an eye’ on the situation. If he didn’t feel better in another few weeks, he’d bring it up to Wrench.

                Of course, just as Krupp decided to tell the crane car about his mysterious ailment, Joule managed to break an axle during a race and kept Wrench quite occupied in the repair shed for several days.

                It was then, while Krupp was dutifully following his master as Electra decided to take a waltz through whatever small time train yard they were visiting, that a fight broke out. Some big, dumb diesel engine who didn’t like the he’d been beaten in a race by a shiny line-chaser electric decided to show Electra a thing or two. Preferably by pounding the infuriating electric engine’s face in.

                As was his job, Krupp stepped in the path of the first blow to protect his master. Normally, a single punch would’ve been hardly enough to ding Krupp’s plating. He was built of quite stern stuff. This time, however, Krupp felt an explosion of pain as the hit connected with his upper abdomen. He couldn’t keep in a scream as he wrapped both arms around his middle and fell to the dirt.

                “Krupp!” Electra called forth lightning to fry the diesel engine where he stood, then turned his attention to his ailing component. “Krupp! Wrench, come quickly!”

 

                The next few days were a blurr. Krupp recalled being rushed to the repair shed. Pain. The screech of power tools and the cursing of Wrench. Panicked yelling about a trainlet. Oh Starlight, a trainlet? What had he done?

 

                And now Krupp was laying on the repair table, feeling incredibly sore and exhausted. He heard the sound of others being ushered from the room, which meant that Wrench must be particularly worried about him. “What. Happened?” Krupp’s voice was raspy, clearly he’d been out at least a few days. If not longer.

                “You got into a fight while pregnant is what happened!” Wrench exclaimed, looking as though she’d dearly like to punch him for his stupidity, but refraining for the sake of him being a patient. “How could you be so foolish?”

                “I didn’t know.” Now Krupp was dearly wishing he’d gone to Wrench before now. Weakly, he managed to lift one hand and rest it over his midsection. The heavy steel plates there had been removed, so his hand now settled over a soft, rubbery bulge. “Is the trainlet okay?”

                Wrench exhaled heavy. “The trainlet is fine. But it was close. The hit you took detached the main oil line that feeds your gestation chamber, fortunately I managed to reattach it. Still! You’re at least 13 or 14 weeks pregnant. You had to have noticed something before now!”

                “I thought it was just because of the upgrade.” Krupp explained weakly. “You said to expect. Fuel sensitivity and nausea.”

                “Yes, but not for months!” Wrench sighed and leaned against the repair table. “Look, the repairs were delicate and your self-repair systems can’t operate fully as long as you’re gestating. You’re going to have to take it extremely easy for the rest of the pregnancy. Assuming, of course, that you want to go through with the pregnancy.”

                “I-“ Krupp’s voice faltered as he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, eyes drawn down to his belly. To his trainlet. “I don’t know.” Krupp was a guardian, a protector, a fighter. He couldn’t stay on berth rest for the next five months, unable to stand by his master as was his job. No, the task of nurturing a trainlet was best left to someone else.

                “Our master would like to see you.” Wrench adjusted the table to support Krupp’s back, then went over and opened the door to the room.

                Electra strode into the repair shed, Wrench slipping out behind to allow her master privacy with Krupp. For once, the electric engine didn’t appear confident and haughty. Instead, Electra immediately rushed to his component’s berth-side and looked over Krupp with concerned eyes. “Krupp! How are you feeling?”

                “I am functional.” Krupp responded simply. “A little.  . .sore. But that will fade.”

                “Good.” Electra straightened up and drew back one hand, then slapped Krupp across the cheek with a loud SMACK.

                Krupp looked at his master in shock, hurt more by the intent behind the action than the actual slap. “Master?”

                With a soft sob, Electra collapsed forward onto the berth and wrapped both arms around Krupp in a tight hug. “Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again.” The electric engine instructed in a rough voice.

                “I’m sorry, master.” Krupp awkwardly patted Electra on the shoulder. “I shall have Wrench schedule an extraction, and then I shall be able to get back to my normal duties.”

                “Extraction?” Electra pulled back from the hug to look at his component sharply. “Why?”

                “I cannot leave you without a bodyguard for the next five months.” Krupp explained. “If I am pregnant, then I can’t do my duty.”

                “Krupp. You are one of my components. An integral part of my functioning. I will not refuse you time off.” Most of the components treated their duties more casually, never afraid to find some time to themselves, except for Krupp. Though he was the most loyal guard dog a celebrity could ask for, that came with drawbacks. “Do not terminate because you _think_ it’s what I want, without actually asking me.”

                “Then? Do you want me to keep the trainlet?” Krupp looked at Electra with some surprise.

                “That little bundle of parts growing inside you represents a part of me as well.” Electra pointed out. “It is your decision. But if you need time off and support, then you have it.”

                “Of course. Thank you,” Krupp bowed his head, one hand still resting over his abdomen. His path had seemed so clear the moment before. Now, he was unsure of what to do again.

                “Now then. I believe everyone else is anxious to see you.”

                Electra stood and strode over to the door. Upon opening it, a tumble of components fell into the room, having all been obviously pressed against the door trying to listen in. Volta, Purse, and Joule immediately rushed over to their fellow component, talking excitedly and tripping over one-another, while Wrench and Electra followed behind a little more calmly.

                As the others crowded around him, Krupp could feel a dizzying array of emotions coming through the bond they shared. The other were anxious, yes. Worried about his health, concerned over whether he was feeling better. But stronger than that was excitement. For him, and for the trainlet.

                “I can’t believe there’s a little bitty train in there!” Joule exclaimed as she immediately latched onto Krupp’s waist, burying her face in his soft middle.

                “Joule!” Volta immediately chastised, “Krupp _just_ woke up from repairs. Be gentle!”

                “It’s ok,” Krupp reassured. Though he was still sore, Joule’s affection was not unwelcome. There was a sort of warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through him instead, flowing from his core to the rest of him. Suddenly, Krupp became aware of a fluttering sort of sensation in his abdomen.

                “Oh!” Joule exclaimed, cheek still pressed against Krupp’s belly. “I think I felt something!”

                “Is the trainlet kicking?” Purse let out a squee at the idea and pushed Joule aside so he could feel as well. Volta wormed a hand in as well, cold palm trying to find space.

                Though it was a little overwhelming to have so many bodies in such a small space, Krupp was well used to component-piles. Instead, his entire attention had narrowed to the tiny little kicks inside him. The sign of a living, moving trainlet.

                “Alright, that’s enough for now. Krupp is still recovering. Everybody, out!” Wrench ushered the others back out of the room again, not that Krupp really noticed. He wasn’t aware of anything until a gentle thumb brushed against his cheek.

                “Are you alright, Krupp?” Wrench brought out a clean rag and dabbed at his cheeks. Distantly, Krupp realized he’d been crying.

                “Yes, I’m fine.” Krupp allowed her to wipe the dampness from his face, wishing that he had his sunglasses to hide behind. “I just wasn’t expecting to feel it move.”

                “You must be further along than I thought. I’m sorry, I can’t terminate at this point.” Wrench set aside the rag and busied herself cleaning up tools.

                “It’s okay. I have decided to go through with it,” After seeing the excitement of the other components, and feeling the little trainlet move, he couldn’t get rid of it now. The little one was still kicking gently, as Krupp absentmindedly rubbed his hand over the movement.

                A rare smile came over Wrench’s lips, and she came over to give Krupp a kiss on the cheek. “Good. Now then, a few more questions for you before you can go back to sleep.”

                Krupp was surprised to realize that he was, in fact, quite tired despite having slept for days. Fortunately, the questions weren’t taxing. No, he didn’t remember who the sire was. (Though there was a decent chance it was that Brazilian national who’d come in third at that race a few months back.) It didn’t really matter to Krupp. He didn’t have any pain, even where the repairs had been performed. Wrench insisted that he drink some diesel and eat a few crackers to keep his levels up, then lowered the berth and turned out the lights to let Krupp sleep.

 

 

                After another day of recovery, Wrench declared that Krupp was well enough to travel. Electra had made the decision to return them to California to a Santa Fe yard, which was technically their “home base” after being bought by the railroad the year before. The US Nationals were being held there in a few more months, so they would need to head that direction anyway. And, it would be easier on Krupp if they stayed in one place.

                The trip took about four days, by the end of which Krupp was absolutely exhausted. He’d had to power Electra for a couple hundred miles of non-electrified line, which Wrench reassured wouldn’t harm the trainlet but would drain his fuel reserves even faster than he was used to. Krupp also wasn’t allowed to travel at top racing speeds, which would place too much stress on his repairs, so the journey took a lot longer than it normally would of. The others didn’t complain about having to go so slowly, but Krupp still felt a little guilty for holding everyone back so much.

                Upon finally reaching their destination, Electra quickly secured a shed for them to stay in and Krupp collapsed on the berth gratefully. Wrench was immediately there to scan him, declaring Krupp okay but drained. A can of diesel and a stack of sweets, courtesy of Volta, were pressed into his hands and the other components were sent away to fetch supplies for their new domicile.

                Bafflingly, Wrench returned with stacks of blankets and cushions. She set them in the far corner of the shed, while Krupp watched with confusion.

                “I know you probably aren’t feeling nesting urges yet, but it’s never too early to start gathering materials.” Wrench busied herself folding up the fabrics nicely, “They’re here when you need them.”

                “. . . nest?” Krupp asked finally, still unsure of exactly what it was all for.

                Wrench blinked, then sighed and hopped up onto the berth next to Krupp. “Alright, sit back and I’ll give you the ol’ ‘Pregnancy 101’ talk.”

               

                A little while later, Electra and the other components returned as well. It wasn’t long before they were all on the berth in a heap, Krupp in the center while the rest curled around him protectively. Normally, Krupp slept on the outside of the component piles so he could be between his master and any potential threats. Right now, though, there was no better feeling than being in the middle of them all.

               

                As the group settled in at the new yard, Electra and the components were assigned to various jobs to earn their keep. Electra ended up on passenger train duty, and there was always work for a freezer car or a wrecking crane. After a thorough cleaning, Joule was quite happy to do some hazardous material transport, and even Purse got work collecting the days fares from all the stations on the line. At any given time of day, though, there was at least one of them free to stay with Krupp.

                The armaments car had been banned from any and all work. Wrench was very clear that he would be unable to fully heal from his injury until after the trainlet was born, and vigorous activity risked undoing the repairs she had done.

                “If the main oil line to the gestation chamber ruptures again, I might not be able to save the trainlet this time.” She warned solemnly.

                Though Krupp had only known about being pregnant for about a week, he felt a sudden, powerful surge of protectiveness towards the little life he carried. Krupp placed both hands over his belly and nodded seriously. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the trainlet.

                Of course, this left Krupp without anything to do during the day. He normally spent his time shadowing Electra, staying unobtrusive but close at hand in case his master needed him. Boredom was not necessarily a problem for Krupp, but the thought of his master being out all day without a bodyguard gave him anxious fits. He’d cleaned the shed top to bottom, his guns sparkled without a speck of dirt on them, and often Krupp found himself pacing for lack of any other way to distract himself.

                Wrench finally took pity on him and offered to take Krupp out for gentle cruises every day for a change of scenery. It gave Krupp something to do besides sit in the shed, and also gave him a chance to observe the other residents of the yard. Krupp sorted everyone into either “possible threat” or “non-threat” categories, and having a chance to judge the rolling stock that lived at their new yard would do much to ease his anxiety.

                Unfortunately, this meant that all the local trainfolk were discovering that one of the newcomers to the yard was pregnant. As the weeks passed, Krupp was rapidly gaining weight and becoming obviously round. And apparently, being pregnant meant that everyone thought his belly was public property.

                “Hi! You must be one of the components that arrived with that hunk Electra.” A bouncy chair car found Krupp one day while he was out of the shed. “Oh my starlight, are you pregnant? That’s so cute! How far along-“

                The coach reached a hand towards his belly, and Krupp instantly had a gun in his hands trained on her face. “Do not touch me.”

                “S-sorry.” The coach put both hands in the air and stepped back. Krupp slowly lowered the gun, and she immediately skated off.

                Krupp sagged a little where he stood, holstering his gun and trying to calm his racing engine.

                “Are you alright?” Wrench had only been away for a few minutes, retrieving cans of diesel for herself and Krupp, and apparently that had been enough for the armaments car to get into trouble.

                “I’m fine.” Krupp took a deep breath, engine rpms slowly falling. “It was just a coach. She wanted.  . she tried to touch me.” It was a stupid thing to get so worked up over, now that the moment had passed Krupp felt a little embarrassed over his reaction.

                Wrench, though, didn’t laugh or tell him he was silly. She just snorted and shook her head. “Stupid coaches. I swear, this yard is full of airheads. Well, I bet she’ll never make that mistake again.”

                Later that day, when Electra returned from work and greeted Krupp with a kiss and a caress of his belly, Krupp didn’t feel that same bolt of terror. Instead, he just felt warm and loved.

 

 

                Electra and the other components all handled Krupp’s pregnancy differently, but they were unanimous in their enthusiasm. Krupp had been afraid that things would be awkward, that the others might have a hard time dealing with his changing moods and body. (Starlight knows Krupp himself was having a hard enough time with it.) But there was only excitement.

                Joule always insisted on have a hand or other body part touching Krupp’s belly at all times, so she would know the instant the trainlet started kicking or moving around. Then she’d immediately bend down to talk to the little one, telling the trainlet all about her day and what their yard was like and how much fun things would be in a few months after they could play for reals. Krupp tolerated the babbling directed at his belly with a game attempt at his usual stoicism, but the others could see the smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

                Volta, meanwhile, was having a grand time crafting sweets of endless variety to try and satisfy the cravings Krupp maintained he didn’t have. She bargained across the yard for different flavors and grades of diesel and oil, always trying out new things to see what Krupp would like the most.

                The result of all this, of course, was that Krupp was very quickly putting on weight. And not all in the middle either. Wrench told him again and again that this was just fine, it meant having a big, healthy trainlet as well as plenty of padding to help recover after the birth. Purse, meanwhile, enjoyed the new development by asking Krupp to sit on his face.

                Then, Electra would waltz into the shed to shower affection on Krupp and fuck his brains out and all was right with the world.

               

                That was, until one week when Electra returned from work with a dented cheek, a split lip, and scuffed knuckles. Krupp’s eyes went wide when he saw his master’s state, and he gently took one of the engine’s damaged hands to examine the paint transfers marring the metal. “Master? What happened?”

                “Oh, I’m fine, Krupp.” Electra dismissed his component’s concerns, though a slight wince pulled at his face when one of the scrapes was prodded. “It was just a yard fight. You know how those get.”

                “I should have been there,” Krupp frowned, guilt spreading through him. He had spent all day curled up with a blanket, being fed and pampered by Volta and Purse, while his master had been out getting into fights.  

                “Krupp, don’t be silly. The last thing I want is you getting into fights right now.” Electra reached out to place a hand on the component’s belly. The bulge had grown from a little bump to a large, round curve that rested heavily against Krupp’s thighs as he sat. “Not in your condition.”

                In his condition. Krupp buried his face in his hands in frustration. He knew this was a terrible idea. Now he was stuck relaxing and doing nothing while his master was out there getting beaten up. He was supposed to be protecting him.

                Emotion welled up inside Krupp, and before he knew it, he was crying into his hands. His shoulders shook as he tried his hardest not to completely break down, but it was futile.

                Electra immediately pulled Krupp close, but wasn’t sure how to comfort his component. “Come now, it’s hardly a scratch in my paint. Wrench broke the engine’s jaw for it, there’s nothing to worry about.”

                “I’m. Sorry.” Krupp managed, embarrassed by his reaction but unable to stop the tears.

                It wasn’t long before the other components came into the shed, drawn by the echoes of Krupp’s distress to join the cuddle puddle. Soon, Krupp had cried himself to sleep, but the others stayed curled around him anyway.

                :Will he be okay?: Electra communicated to Wrench wirelessly, not wanting to awaken the armaments car in his lap.

                :He will be fine.: Wrench responded, unbuckling Krupp’s hat so she could run a hand through his short, silver hair. :Krupp just doesn’t deal with emotions well, and the pregnancy is keeping him from burying it all like he normally does:

                Electra hummed in acknowledgement, fiddling with the blanket drawn over Krupp and making sure he was tucked in tight. While Electra wasn’t much of a fighter, he was willing to take a few hits for the sake of keeping Krupp and the trainlet safe. He might ask Wrench to stay nearby in case of another fight, though, for a little while at least. Since the crane car had suplexed the largest diesel in the yard earlier in the day all of the local engines were terrified of her.

               

 

                The next morning, Krupp put on his hat and glasses in preparation to follow Electra to the yard. Sure, he couldn’t physically fight, but he could at least shoot anyone who came too close to his master.

                As he buckled the chinstrap of his hat and secured his guns in his hip holsters, though, Krupp glanced down and realized with some shock that he could no longer see his feet. Just the silver surface of his belly jutting out in front of him. With a heavy sigh, Krupp sat back down on the berth. What was he thinking? He wasn’t any good to anyone like this, so fat he couldn’t see his own feet. The only way he’d be able to beat an enemy is if they laughed themselves to death.

                “Krupp?” Electra came into the shed with a couple cans of diesel in hand, “Are you alright? I thought you were coming out with me today.”

                “I’m no good to you.” Krupp accepted the diesel and sipped at it morosely. “I’ll just stay here.”

                Electra frowned, at a bit of a loss for how to deal with this suddenly emotional Krupp. Clearly, the kind and gentle approach wasn’t working. Time for a change in tactics.

                “Krupp. I am sick and tired of you moping around. Is this how one of my components acts?” Electra asked sharply, making Krupp stare at him in surprise. “I am not helpless. I am more than capable of holding my own in some dumb little yard fight. I may not enjoy getting my hands dirty, but I will! Do you know who is completely helpless and utterly dependent on you for everything?”

                With that, Electra crouched down and tenderly laid a hand on Krupp’s belly. “This little one. He needs you more than I do right now. I want you to do everything in your power these next few months to make sure you and him stay healthy and safe. Understand me?”

                Reflexively, Krupp straightened his back and met Electra’s eyes. “Yes master, I understand.”

                “Good.” Electra bent down to press his glittery lips against Krupp’s belly in a brief kiss and set down the cans of diesel on the berth. “Now, I’m leaving you with Joule for the day. Please, try to make sure she doesn’t get up to anything. You know how her impulse control is.”

                “What impulse control?” Krupp deadpanned.

                “Exactly.” Electra smiled before turning and skating out.

                As Electra left, Joule slunk into the shed instead. The tanker car came over to the berth and hopped up on it, watching as Krupp shifted himself until he could put his back against the wall. Even sitting upright was painful after a while, with all the weight pulling on his backstrut.

                “What does it feel like?” Joule asked suddenly after Krupp got settled again.

                “What does what feel like?” Krupp questioned, removing his guns from his hip holsters and carefully setting them aside.

                “You know, being all enormous and stuff.” Joule puffed out her cheeks and held her hands out in front of her for emphasis.

                Krupp considered the question, not bothering to address Joule’s less than optimal wording (which, knowing Joule, would be pointless.) “Uncomfortable.” He said finally.

                “Uncomfortable?” Joule seemed a little surprised by the answer. “Oh, I mean I guess. You do look pretty stuffed. But isn’t it cool too? You’re building a whole train person in there from scratch! That’s awesome.”

                “I. Suppose it is.” Krupp had never really thought of it that way before. He looked over at Joule, who was still gazing at his midsection in fascination, and had a sudden idea. “Do you want to know what this feels like?”

                “Sure!” Joule perked up immediately. “How?”

                “Just close your eyes.” Krupp waited until she did so, then accessed the connection that existed between Electra and all the components. Finding the thread that led specifically to Joule, Krupp began opening it wider and wider. Giving Joule access to not just the transmissions he sent, but to the rest of his systems. Until she could patch into his sensory network. Until she could see what he saw and felt what he felt.

                As if on cue, the trainlet began to move restlessly inside Krupp, tiny, newly formed limbs stretching and kicking to test the limits of his comfy home. There was a gasp inside Krupp’s mind, followed by a giggle as Joule clearly felt the movement as well.

                The two of them stayed like that for a little while longer, until eventually the trainlet got tired and went back to sleep. Then, reluctantly, Joule withdrew from Krupp’s mind and back to her own body.

                “That was amazing.” Joule breathed, patting her body to make sure it was still how she remembered. The double sensory feedback from both her and Krupp had been disorienting, but absolutely worth it. “Could you do that again some time while we fuck?”

                Krupp blinked, almost getting whiplash from how quickly the moment had gone from sweet to crude. (Not that he should expect any less from Joule.) “Sure?”

                “Awesome!” Joule jumped off the berth and dashed for the door, “I’m gonna get some candy and then break out the toys!”

                Watching her go, Krupp realized that he had just agreed to a wild, exhausting sort of day. But at least it would be satisfying.

 

 

                As the days passed, Krupp found his eyes and hands constantly being drawn towards the pile of blankets and cushions in the corner of the shed. Through considerable willpower, he managed to keep himself from actually touching or messing with it, save for the single blanket he’d given in to using at night. Even as he tried to resist the lure of the nesting materials, his sleep at night got less and less restful. The other components had begun to notice how Krupp was always waking up at intervals throughout the night, tossing and turning in a futile attempt to get comfortable.

                “You know, it’s not a crime to make a nest.” Wrench commented after a week of watching Krupp make eyes at the stacks of blankets. She had added more, in the hopes of enticing him, but no luck yet. “You’ll feel safer and get more sleep.”

                “I’m fine.” Krupp responded automatically, refocusing on repairs he was doing to one of his guns. If he could tweak the voltage regulator, he could potentially increase its power and effectiveness.

                Wrench rolled her eyes, and a mischievous grin came over her face. “Oh really? So you won’t mind if I do this?”

                She went over to the pile of fabric and knocked it over, then started kicking the blankets and cushions around into a disorganized heap. Krupp gasped and set aside his gun, reaching out towards the distressing sight. Wrench kept going, doing her best to create a huge mess, trying to aggravate both Krupp’s fastidious nature and his nesting urges.

                Another minute more and Krupp was off the berth and crouched in the pile protectively, guarding it from any further destruction. As Wrench watched, he began to shift and move around the fabrics to a more pleasing shape. A deep bowl was formed, with nice high sides and a soft bottom, until finally Krupp seemed satisfied and pulled another blanket over himself with a sigh. Then, he seemed to come back to his senses. From deep within the nest, Wrench heard a grumbled “Dammit.” In response, she just laughed.

 

 

                Krupp had to admit, he did sleep better now that he had a nest. It allowed him more options for sleeping positions, and he could always find a cushion or a pillow to support his belly or his back.

                All the comfy cushions in the world didn’t matter, though, when the trainlet decided to wake up in the middle of the night. The little one didn’t care about Krupp’s strict sleeping schedule, and there was no staying in bed through flurries of kicks and punches from the inside. Reluctantly, Krupp would climb out of his nest and go outside to pace, moving around seeming to be the only thing that would soothe the trainlet back to sleep.

                One of the others would always go with him, usually whoever was sharing that nest that evening and was woken up by Krupp’s egress. Krupp wanted to argue that he didn’t need a babysitter but was forced to admit that having another with him was nice. Not for protection, but because he often got too tired to make it back to the shed under his own power. It was always particularly nice if Electra or Wrench came out with them, as they were capable of supporting him and pulling him back once exhaustion hit him.

                “How much longer do I have of this?” Krupp asked tiredly late one evening, sitting out on a shipping container and watching the stars. The trainlet was still moving around, more calmly now than he had been earlier, but Krupp’s back hurt too much to keep pacing around.

                “Another eight to ten weeks.” Wrench predicted, sitting down next to him.

                Krupp groaned and tipped his head back. It seemed like he’d been pregnant forever, and still there were two more months to go. “I don’t think I can possibly get any larger.”

                “Oh, you will.” Wrench promised. “Honestly, Krupp, you’re not _that_ big. You’re within the average range of weight gain for a freight car, if on the upper end. You can blame Volta, if you want. She really likes feeding you.”

                And, Krupp had to admit, he really enjoyed eating everything that Volta fed to him. Even if the results went straight to his midsection and butt.

                As he sat there, Krupp shifted uncomfortably and massaged a hand up under his chestbox. His chest had been feeling rather sore and squished lately, though Krupp was very reluctant to take off any more armor that he absolutely had to. So instead, he did his best to rub the sore metal underneath his outer armor layer. It felt rather nice, so Krupp kept at it until his hand suddenly felt wet. Pulling it back out in surprise, he stared at the sheen of oil and silvery liquid on his fingertips.

                “Well then, I was wondering when that would happen.” Wrench commented in amusement.

                “Have I broken something?” Krupp asked, a bit of fear in his voice as he remembered the repeated warnings about the damaged main oil line in his torso.

                “No, no. You’re fine.” Wrench reassured him quickly. “You’re just lactating, Krupp. Your auxiliary oiling system is coming online in preparation for the trainlet.”

                Well, that was certainly better than a burst oil line. Still, Krupp frowned as more oil trickled out from under his chestbox and down the round surface of his belly. “How do I get it to stop?”

                “Well, you could either ignore it and it will shut itself down, for a couple days at least. Or, you could get someone to help you.” Wrench leaned over and showed just how she intended to help by licking the oil from Krupp’s belly. “Mmm. You need a little more copper in your diet, I’ll tell Volta.”

                Krupp shuddered as Wrench “helped” clean him up. The prospect of getting more of the same sounded quite nice to him. “I would. Appreciate the assistance.”

                “Alright, well then, lets get you back to the shed,” Wrench took both of Krupp’s hands firmly in her own and hauled him to his wheels, then sent a radio call over to Volta to wake the freezer car up. It would be more fun with two.

                Once back inside, Wrench and a very sleepy looking Volta helped Krupp down into his nest. Wrench moved towards the latches that secured Krupp’s chestbox, but paused when he tensed up at the touch.

                “We have to take off your armor, Krupp.” Wrench soothed, opening the first latch and going for the second. “You can’t keep it on so tight anyway, it can damage your aux oiling system.”

                “You’re safe here, we’ll protect you.” Volta tried to remove one of his shoulderboxes, but Krupp moved his arm away. It was hardwired into his systems to be on guard at all times.

                “How about I just loosen your front panel, and leave everything else on?” Wrench was finally able to open the front of Krupp’s chestbox and folded the front panel out of the way, wringing a groan of relief from the armaments car as the pressure was removed from his swollen chest.

                “Well, then. Don’t you look like a tasty treat?” Volta smiled in delight when Krupp’s hefty cleavage was revealed. She reached forward and tweaked one of his nipples, making him whine with want as more oil squirted out.

                “He looks so full, we shouldn’t leave him waiting, Volta.” Wrench cuddled up to Krupp’s left side, using one hand to rub his belly while her other helped guide his nipple to her mouth. Volta followed suit on the other side, letting her ice-cold breath ghost over Krupp’s breast before taking a suck.

                Krupp gasped, eyes rolling back as he arched into their touch. His newly developed breasts were _very_ sensitive, and the feeling of his oil letting down was turning out to be almost more than he could handle. Volta and Wrench exchanged triumphant looks, licking and sucking at the sweet oil eagerly. Slowly, Krupp started to relax, allowing the pleasure from their ministrations to take away any concerns or nervousness he had. The next two months might be tolerable indeed if they kept things up like this.

 

 

                It was a little annoying when Krupp discovered he could no longer latch his chestplate anymore, marking an end to his going outside the shed for the rest of the pregnancy. Electra and the other components were taking more time off to spend with him, so it didn’t seem so bad. The tiredness Wrench had told him to expect was really kicking in, so he was spending a large portion of his day sleeping. When he was awake, though, the others were always on hand for belly rubs and sexy times.

                Aches and cramps were becoming the norm, and Wrench cautioned him to be especially careful as the growing trainlet put pressure on his repaired main oil line. Moving around the shed to ease stiff struts and joints required an escort to lean on if the soreness in his torso got to be too much.

                Outside the shed, the big talk of the yard was the upcoming National Race. Competitors were beginning to arrive from across the country, and Electra was making sure to make as much of a show of himself as possible. The electric engine usually preferred to make a single, flashy entrance to the races proceeded by all his components, but with Krupp unavailable, Electra settled for making a nuisance of himself around the yard instead. There were plenty of ways to psychologically mess with the competition, after all.

                Volta and Joule joined the races as partners to some of the visiting racers, as they often did, so on race day it was Wrench and Purse who helped Krupp out to the viewing area for the show. Krupp wanted to be there to support his master, and after managing to get his chestbox back on, he had declared himself ready to outside. Wrench dragged over a container to sit on, glaring at the trainfolk who openly stared at Krupp. It was unusual indeed to see such a heavily pregnant car out in public in a yard, but that didn’t mean they had to be so rude.

                Krupp settled himself with Wrench and Purse on either side, resting his hands atop his belly and rubbing the heavy curve gently. There was a knot of tension in his lower back that was pretty much omnipresent at this point, though having Purse’s hand massaging it as they sat certainly helped, and the trainlet had his head pressed down in Krupp’s pelvic girdle, feet kicking energetically at his rib struts. Krupp wasn’t at all comfortable, but comfort was pretty much impossible at this point so he might as well sit and watch his master race as opposed to sitting in the shed listening to the radio broadcast.

                As was to be expected, Electra easily took first in Heat One, a pretty young coach hanging onto his couplers with an expression of pure awe and admiration on her face. The electric engine always went for the prettiest, most airheaded coach in the yard for a racing partner, they were easiest to seduce and complimented Electra’s own beauty well. Plus, taking the best-looking coach tended to either impress or irritate the competition.

                Volta’s partner derailed in a pretty spectacular manner, though fortunately the freezer car managed to uncouple before following the same fate. Still, Volta gave the unfortunate engine a disgusted kick to the rump before stomping off. Joule was a little more lucky, coming in second to move on to the next heat.

                Electra circled back around to the viewing stands, soaking in the congratulations or jeers sent his way, and gave his Coach of the Day a kiss before asking her to wait for him for a few minutes. Then, the electric engine was able to come check on his other components.

                “You’re looking radiant, Krupp.” Electra complimented, bending down to give Krupp a much more in-depth kiss while running both hands down his belly. “And is the little one enjoying the races too?”

                A flurry of kicks drummed against Electra’s hands, making the electric engine give a delighted laugh. It inspired a more tired chuckle out of Krupp as well, “Or trying to join them, yes.”

                “Well, not until after I win these races. He’ll just have to stay put.” After a little more lovin’ on his component and the trainlet, Electra left to keep entertaining his new arm candy and schmoozing with the other racers. There were several more elimination heats to go before the second round, meaning lots of boring races that the components had no investment in. Purse wandered off to see if he could get in a quickie before the final, while Joule decided to go see if she could blow something up for a bit of excitement.

                Krupp, meanwhile, was starting to feel painful cramps in his back and middle and the lure of his nest was getting stronger. He wanted to be here for the final race, but that wouldn’t be for hours yet. Suddenly, the prospect of sitting here for that length of time was utterly intolerable.

                “I think I’d like to rest for a little bit.” Krupp slowly pushed himself upright, Wrench and Volta jumping in to assist. The pair helped him back to their shed, but Krupp pushed them away once they got inside.

                “Do you want one of us to stay with you?” Wrench asked as Krupp settled himself back into his nest.

                “I am fine.” Krupp wasn’t about to make one of them sit here with him and miss the race, “Go support our master in the race. Knowing him, he’s probably getting threatened by a diesel right now.”

                Wrench didn’t look so certain, but eventually her and Volta exited to return to the party and drama going on outside. Once they were gone, Krupp let the stoic mask slip from his face and grimaced in pain, rubbing at his back in the hopes it might ease the tension there at least a little bit.

                It did nothing to help, especially when a stronger cramp squeezed his middle a few minutes later. They were getting stronger, and more painful. Krupp shifted in his nest, trying to find some position that would be more comfortable.

                After an hour of increasingly stronger cramping, it distantly occurred to Krupp that he was probably in labor. It was still a week and a half until his predicted due date, but even Wrench had admitted that was only a best guess.

                So. He was having a trainlet. ‘Finally’ was the first thought that came to mind. The second was ‘oh Starlight, I’m not ready for this’ followed by ‘I can’t give birth if Electra isn’t here.’ That was one thing Krupp was sure about, his master _needed_ to be on hand to see the birth of the trainlet.

                Krupp turned on his radio, tuning into the channel the race was being broadcast on in an attempt to find some distraction. They had just started the last of the elimination heats, and the announcer was eagerly narrating the antics of all the racers whom Krupp didn’t know. It wasn’t very good as distractions went.

                “Come on, you just have to stay inside a little longer.” Krupp murmured, rubbing the underside of his belly where he could feel the trainlet pressing lower. Of course, that’s when he felt something snap deep in his pelvis and liquid gushed down his thighs. Oh, that wasn’t good.

                It turned out that the earlier cramps were just polite practice taps, now that his waters had broken the contractions showed their true fury. Krupp whined in pain and pressed his face into the cushions of the nest. He just had to last a little while more. They were almost ready to run the final race, then Electra would win and come back to the shed to witness the birth of the trainlet.

                Of course, that was when Wrench decided to contact Krupp. The armaments car did his best to mask his pain from the connection as he answered the transmission.

                :Krupp? They’re starting the final race. Do you want to come back out?:

                :No, I’m feeling tired. I will listen to the radio from here.:

                :Are you okay?:

                :Yes, I’m fine.: Krupp cut the connection abruptly so she wouldn’t hear the cry of pain he gave. There was a burning sensation growing in his crotch, mirrored by a sharp pain somewhere deep in his chest.

                Desperately, Krupp tried to focus on the radio coverage of the race. The finalists were at the starting gate, waiting for the countdown. Electra was front and center, of course. The gate dropped and the racers exploded from the starting line. Over the radio, the announcer was excitedly narrating every hit, punch, and crash as the trains battled for the lead. Krupp chuckled when he heard Electra zap one of the other racers, sending the unfortunate engine toppling over the railing and off the track, but his amusement was tempered by the pain taking over his body.

                The urge to push was growing, but Krupp tamped it down by force of will. Electra _would_ be there to see the birth.

                Krupp couldn’t really focus on the radio broadcast anymore, the words of the announcer only occasionally penetrating the haze fogging his mind. Flashes of short scenes. Of crashes and fighting, and finally of Electra victorious.

                Panting, Krupp was able to summon a small smile at the news of his master’s win. Soon, he would return to the shed with the other components, and Krupp would be able to welcome his trainlet into the world.

                When the door to the shed opened, Krupp nearly sobbed in relief. The effort of trying to hold the trainlet in was almost more than he could handle, his entire body shaking and trembling.

                “Krupp? Be ready to greet your champion!” Electra announced proudly as he entered the shed, bunting decorating his neck and a trophy in hand. “Krupp?”

                Wrench suddenly dashed past Electra and collapsed to her knees at the nest. “Krupp! Starlight _fucking_ Express, Krupp. Why didn’t you say anything?”

                “Master said. To wait until the races were over.” Krupp managed weakly, finally giving in to the overwhelming need to push. The worried faces of Electra and the other components swam in his vision, while Wrench busied herself between his legs.

                “I’m going to be so mad at you later.” Wrench promised, rubbing and massaging his valve to try and encourage even a little relaxing of the calipers there. “Come on, I can see the head. You’re so close, you just have to push a little more.”

                Electra tossed aside his racing prizes and got into the nest to hold one of Krupp’s hands, giving the armaments car something to squeeze as he did his best to obey Wrench and his body’s command. Purse joined on his other side, while Volta and Joule knelt behind Wrench to give their encouragement as well.

                “There we go, there we go,” Wrench gave a satisfied smile as the trainlet’s head emerged with the next push, wiping fluid from the little one’s face and gently shifting his shoulders for a slightly better angle. “Come on, Krupp. One more!”

                A scream was ripped from Krupp’s throat as he bore down once more, but finally the trainlet slid out into Wrench’s hands. The crane car immediately brought out a clean, soft rag, cleaning off the little one and encouraging a high, whining mewl of displeasure. A good sound.

                “He’s. Okay?” Krupp lifted his head, but couldn’t manage anything more.

                “He’s perfect.” Wrench reassured.

                “Good.” Krupp suddenly pulled his hands from Electra and Purse’s gasps, bringing them to his chest as he gritted his teeth in pain. “Something. Hurts.”

                “Krupp? Krupp! FUCK!”

                Everything went black.

 

 

                Krupp awoke slowly, his body sore and his mind feeling as though it was stuffed with cotton. He pried his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of Electra sitting next to him, a tiny trainlet cradled in the electric engine’s arms.

                “Krupp? Oh, thank Starlight. Wrench, he’s awake!”

                “What happened?” Krupp tried to move, but quickly thought better of it when it brought a sharp, stinging sensation in his chest.

                “Well, you split the main oil line to your gestation chamber again.” Wrench chastised, running her hands along his torso in conjunction with a deep scan. “Just like I warned you would. Fortunately, not until after the trainlet emerged. You still flooded your engine and internals with oil, took me hours to mop it all up. I removed the oil line, it’s now too damaged to fix. You’ll have to have it replaced if you want to get pregnant again.”

                “I think once was enough.” Krupp couldn’t take his eyes from the tiny, sleeping car in his master’s arms. “Could- could I?’

                Electra gently set the little one on Krupp’s chest, earning an irritated squeak before the trainlet settled down again.

                “Now then, I think the trainlet needs a name.” Electra tickled the trainlet’s cheek, smiling at the giggle that resulted. “Any ideas?”

                “I hadn’t really thought about it.” Krupp looked around for inspiration, trying to think, and saw the other components eagerly watching from just outside the nest. “Joule? Any ideas?”

                Joule looked like Christmas had come early. “Can we call him Kilowatt?”

                “I think Kilowatt is a great name.” Krupp agreed.

                “Well then, welcome to the family, Kilowatt.” Electra sighed and relaxed back into the nest. Winning was nice, but this was even better.


	4. Krupp/Purse D/s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> / Goes with the previous chapter
> 
> Krupp is pregnant and horny, but can't seem to get off without a sub to writhe underneath him. Fortunately, Purse is always happy to help (with a little assistance from the master of toys: Volta)
> 
> Characters: Krupp/Purse (and some Volta)  
> Rating: Explicit  
> Warnings: mpreg, bdsm, flogging, force-feeding

 

                Krupp sighed as he lay back on the berth, hardly feeling the force of Volta thrusting into him. The evening had started out enjoyable, but that had suddenly waned. The aching need was still apparent deep inside, a strong desire to get spiked, but this just wasn’t scratching that itch. Annoyingly, Krupp wasn’t even sure why.

                Volta suddenly stopped, making Krupp look up at the other component in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

                “You tell me,” Volta tossed his head a little to shake his bangs from his eyes and pulled out, choosing to recline next to Krupp instead. “You clearly aren’t into this, and I enjoy responsive sexual partners, not dolls. What’s on your mind?”

                “I’m not sure.” Krupp grumbled in frustration. “I’m still turned on as hell, but can’t seem to get off.”

                “Is it the trainlet?” It wouldn’t be the first time that energetic movement from the little one had killed the mood in berth. Volta laid a hand on his belly; but felt no kicks or jabs from within.

                “No.” The rhythm of Volta’s thrusting had rocked the trainlet right to sleep not long after they started. “I just. Need something _more_.” What that “more” was, however, was beyond Krupp’s grasp.

                Thankfully, the other components knew him almost better than he knew himself. “Is it because you’re lying on your back with someone else over you?”

                Krupp frowned. That hadn’t occurred to him, but it didn’t sound wrong. “Maybe?”

                Volta laughed and shook his head. “Krupp, you’re the biggest dom out of all of us. If someone else topping you isn’t getting you off, just say something. I’m not much in the mood to bottom tonight, but I bet I know someone who is.” With that, he put a call out to Purse.

                The armored money car arrived a few minutes later, skating into the shed with hands on his hips. Volta hadn’t said what he was needed for, just that Krupp wanted him. “What’s going on, you two?”

                “Krupp dear is having trouble getting off without a sub to writhe beneath him.” Volta smirked, “So I wanted to call on the world’s ultimate bottom.”

                Purse snorted; but didn’t deny the claim. He did have one hell of a masochist streak; and was usually the one Krupp went to when certain sadistic desires needed to be satisfied. “Well, then,” He sauntered sensually over to Krupp, who was leaning against the berth with arms crossed. “It sounds like I don’t have much choice, do I?”

                “Now then, Krupp. How do you want him?” Volta asked, pulling various toys out of his storage. “I think chained to the wall has merit.”

                “Chained to the wall sounds.  . .nice.” Krupp could feel the embers of desire stoking hotter just at the thought, and his engine rumbled a pleased note. He took a pair of wrist cuffs from Volta and started securing Purse’s hands to tie-downs they had installed in the wall, while the freezer car bent down and took care of Purse’s ankles. Soon, the armored car was standing with his back to them, legs and arms outstretched and totally at their mercy.

                “Mmm,” Krupp stepped forward and ran his hands down Purse’s sides, enjoying the way the armored money car writhed and whimpered. The chains on his limbs clattered but allowed no slack for movement.

                “Whip, or flogger?” Volta asked, holding up both items helpfully.

                Purse eyed the whip with some desire in his eyes; but wasn’t much disappointed to see Krupp take the flogger instead. It was a clever little tool invented by Volta. Made of braided electrical wires, it produced a gentle tingling sensation when applied gently. Applied harshly, however, it created a far more intense electrical shock.

                “Now then. Have you been a good boy lately, Purse?” Krupp trailed the flogger up Purse’s arm towards his shoulder, a pins and needles sensation following in it’s wake.

                “Yes sir.” Purse breathed, falling into the roles that the two often played.

                “Are you sure?” Now the flogger was being brushed against his backstrut. Purse writhed, trying to arch away.

                “Y-yes.” There was a quiet ‘click’ as Purse’s spike cover slid aside.

                “I don’t believe you.” Krupp suddenly snapped the flogger, causing the braided lines to slap against Purse’s butt and creating bright electrical sparks wherever they landed.

                Purse jumped, eyes going wide and spike extending as pain and pleasure shot through his rump. “Ah! Krupp!”

                “Did I say you could speak my name?” Krupp lashed out again, this time causing the wires to spark against Purse’s inner thighs. Now those sleek, black legs and booty were trembling and shaking, dark welts visible against his plating.

                “N-aahhh!” Purse’s knees tried to give out, but the chains holding up his wrists held fast. His spike was throbbing now, a bit of ejaculate dribbling from the tip. Volta was quick to notice that, and pulled another small toy from storage.

                “Now then, I would hate to see anything wasted.” Volta slipped a tight ring over the head of Purse’s spike and eased it down to the base. The armored money car gasped and whined as ice-cold fingers stroked his spike before retreating. “There. You won’t be cumming until Krupp says so.”

                “I think he still needs some more. . . preparation.” Having Purse chained up in front of him was finally providing the stimulation Krupp wanted. His valve, still open and uncovered from Volta’s earlier attempts, was dripping wet now. Lubricant was starting to slick up his thighs, and the burning heat in his core wanted nothing more than to sit on Purse’s spike and ride it until one or both participants passed out. Krupp pushed down the desires, letting them simmer. He wanted to play more first.

                Krupp approached until he could wrap his arms around Purse’s waist, his belly pressing into the armored car’s back. Feeling around Purse’s pelvic girdle, Krupp found the bulge just above his spike housing where his tank was. That it was full and swollen was a sign of how turned on Purse was, his body sending materials to be converted into ejaculate in anticipation of overload.

                “I think there’s still some room in there.” Krupp pressed on Purse’s abdomen, grinning when the other component’s spike jumped. The spike ring did its job, however, making sure that nothing leaked out. Purse couldn’t do anything except moan and shiver, hips jerking as he tried and failed to find release. “He can go for a while longer.”

                “Well then, we should fill him up.” Volta pulled out a stack of sweets. “I’ve always been curious to see how much he can take.”

                “Bastards.” Purse hissed before a sweet was shoved into his mouth. He had little choice but to chew and swallow, barely getting it down before a second was stuffed in, then a third.

                Krupp leaned in very close, until his lips nearly brushed Purse’s ear. “Slut.” The whisper was accompanied by a hard spank to his butt.

                Purse nearly choked on the candies in his mouth, swallowing with some difficulty. His ass was slapped again, Krupp’s firm, open hand stinging both cheeks.

                “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” Volta teased. Purse couldn’t answer, his mouth too full to get anything out except a muffled yelp.

                “I think I have an idea for something else he can eat.” Krupp got in one last slap before stepping back. As much as he was enjoying this, his back was starting to hurt. It was time for a change in position. “Volta, put him on the berth.”

                Volta eagerly obeyed, unbolting Purse from the wall and dragging him over to the berth. Normally, Krupp enjoyed being the one to manhandle his subs, but watching Volta made a good substitute when he couldn’t physically do it himself.

                What Krupp could do, however, was climb up onto the berth and use his girth to pin Purse down while Volta secured his restraints to the corners of the berth. Krupp sighed as he sat down, taking the weight of the trainlet off his back and feet, and enjoyed the muffled groan of pleasure that issued from underneath him.

                “Now then.” Once Purse was firmly tethered back down, Krupp adjusted himself until his thighs were on either side of Purse’s head and sank down to give the other component a face-full of dripping valve. “Eat, slut.”

                There was little Purse could do but obey, with powerful thighs pressing against his ears and his vision full of nothing but Krupp’s valve and the underside of his gravid belly. So in he dove, lapping up the lubricant that coated the silver folds above him until the slick liquid coated his face. Krupp gave an agreeable shudder, thighs squeezing Purse’s head beneath him.

                Finally, this was what Krupp had been craving. The physical motion of spike-in-valve sex wasn’t enough. He needed a slave beneath him, making all kinds of delicious noises as he sought to drive his tongue in ever deeper. Krupp almost never used his valve, but Purse was well-versed in eating out and was only too eager to map the innards of his fellow component with lips and tongue. In the corner, Volta watched the show with spike in hand and enjoyed the hedonistic sight laid out before him.

                Krupp rocked his hips, humping Purse’s face as he felt overload approaching. The other component responded by intensifying his efforts, until suddenly a hand pushed his forehead down and away from his meal.

                “Now then,” Krupp panted, moving himself off of Purse’s face and carefully inching his way down towards the armored car’s hips. As much as he would love to overload sitting on Purse’s face, what he really _needed_ just then was a spike in his valve. “You’ve been a good boy. It’s time for your reward.”

                He carefully worked the spike ring off of Purse, then straddled the other component’s hips and sank down onto his spike. Immediately, an intensely satisfied feeling washed through him. _Finally_ , the itch had been scratched, and Krupp’s cravings eased. The burning need for an overload, however, was stronger than ever.

                Purse seemed to feel that need as well, if the jerking of his hips was any indication. Krupp rocked on Purse’s spike, letting his ass grind into the other component’s pelvic girdle. He wanted to go harder, to add that edge of pain to his pleasure, but there was an ache in his chest that told him he was already stressing his damaged oil line. No rough, injurious sex allowed right now.

                So instead, Krupp leaned back to help take some of the pressure off and worked on getting as much spike as he could into him. Purse was panting hard, apparently having trouble breathing with multiple tons of gravid component seated on top of him, and his normally chalk white face was flushed an attractive shade of pink.

                “Come on, cum for me.” Krupp growled, squeezing his thighs around Purse’s hips.

                Purse obeyed as he always did, crying out as he was finally allowed to overload. His over-full tank was emptied into Krupp in huge spurts, bringing the armaments car to his orgasm as well. Krupp’s valve clenched down hard, milking as much fluid from Purse as he could until the other component was completely spent.

                Finally feeling full and satisfied, Krupp pulled himself off of Purse and collapsed to the berth next to him. Volta came over to release Purse from the restraints, the freezer car’s abdomen painted silver from his own release, but Krupp hardly noticed. Now that he no longer felt the driving need for sex, exhaustion over took him and he dropped right to sleep.

 

               

                A little while later, Krupp slowly awoke feeling immensely comfortable and satisfied. Someone had tucked a pillow under his head, and a blanket was now draped over him. As a bonus, he could feel feather-light kisses being pressed across the broad surface of his belly, in response to little kicks and nudges from the trainlet inside.

                Opening his eyes, Krupp looked down to see Purse curled up into his front, gently tickling and kissing his swollen belly to encourage the trainlet to play.

                “Well then, welcome back.” Purse said with amusement, pulling away from his game and patting the blanket back down. “The trainlet woke up before you did.”

                “Yes, I’ve noticed.” Krupp’s voice was deep and husky, accompanied by the bass rumble of his engine. A truly happy, relaxed armaments car. “He didn’t have to work as hard as I did.”

                “Aww, was torturing me really so difficult?” Purse crawled up the berth and turned to present his ass to Krupp. “Look at what you did to my butt.”

                Krupp took a moment to appreciate the scratches and scuffs that decorated Purse’s magnificent hind end, before leaning forward to giving one cheek a little love bite. “Would you like me to bruise it more?”

                “Hmm,” Purse wiggled his butt, pretending to consider the offer, “Would you use the whip this time?”

                “Slut,” Krupp teased, shifting under the blanket. His recovery time wasn’t what it used to be, though, and he was having trouble getting his heavy limbs to respond. “Get me some diesel and I’ll consider it.”

                “Right away, sir.” Purse hopped off the berth and skated for the door. Krupp watched him go, before sighing and snuggling back into the covers. In his mind, though, he was thinking of all the ways he could use that whip. It wasn’t a bad way to occupy his thoughts at all.  . .


	5. Rusty/Pearl mpreg Part1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by the end of the Broadway musical, where Rusty is "upgraded" to an all black and silver version of his costume during the Starlight Sequence. (and then enters the final race as the Starlight Express)
> 
> I've always thought that Rusty's rust is a sign of health issues, and this meant that he was "healed"
> 
> . .. well and then mpreg happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Pearl/Rusty  
> Rating: Mature, with an Explicit scene at the end  
> Warnings: Mpreg, first times, 
> 
> Splitting this story into 2 parts because it ended up stupid long

               

                ------

 

 

                                The International Railway Race had been a hell of a weird trip. A champion had been upstaged, a mysterious stranger had arrived at the final claiming to be the Starlight Express himself, and to cap it all, the Silver Dollar had been stolen and recovered after a wild chase. Then, while the entire yard was still reeling, the new Champion had been revealed to be none other than their homely switcher Rusty. Well, not so homely any longer.

                Starvation as an infant trainlet had severely damaged Rusty’s self-repair system, causing it to be unable to keep up with the corrosion that affected his body. It was fortunately only surface rust, but it had still been a source of mockery his entire life. When the Starlight Express had come down to Rusty before the final race, however, the train god had not only helped the steamer find his confidence again; but had also healed his repair system. Suddenly, Rusty’s paint was a gleaming black, better than it had ever looked in his life, and the ever-present soreness in his joints was no more. It was nothing short of a miracle.

                Of course, what had Rusty just as enthusiastic was the fact that he was now officially Pearl’s boyfriend. Well, and he was World Racing Champion, that was also pretty awesome.

                One of the perks of being the new Champion was that Rusty finally got his own shed. (Technically, Rusty had a shed, but he chose to sleep outside so that Poppa could sleep indoors instead of him.) As proof that even after winning, he was still humble, Rusty gave the newly built shed to Poppa and took the older one for himself. It was wooden and a bit dry-rotted and leaned to one side more than the other, but it was his. And, after a bit of cleaning, Pearl’s. To the observation car’s credit, she never complained about the decades of coal soot that had built up on the ceiling or cracked concrete floor. Anything, she said, was better than sharing a shed with the nosey busybodies that were the other coaches.

                Rusty had been a bit concerned that his new paint job was only temporary, that soon the rust would creep it’s way back, but after two months there was no sign of deterioration of the gloss black enamel. He was, however, having some other problems.

                Unusual levels of exhaustion was at first something he blamed on his new duties. As the new Champion (and because Greaseball was still in the shop having his dents knocked out), Rusty had been assigned primary passenger duties. Rusty had never really pulled trains at speed before, having spent most of his working life shunting in the yard at very low speeds, and it was harder than he thought it would be.

                Then, he started getting hot flashes, sudden flares from his firebox that were uncomfortable and occasionally made his safety valve go off in a very embarrassing way. It got harder for him to maintain a steady steam pressure, which only made pulling trains more tiring. Rusty returned to his shed in the evenings with just barely enough energy to collapse on the berth and pass out. Sometimes he would stay awake long enough to feel Pearl come in and remove his hat and run her hands through his hair, and that certainly made him feel a little better. So did waking up in the morning to a face full of pink curls and Pearl cradled in his arms.

                The final straw was when Rusty found himself heaving up his breakfast on the edge of the tracks. His newly-functioning repair system required a lot more food and oil than he was used to eating, and the last thing Rusty needed was to have his hunger interrupted by nausea.

                Fortunately, since the fancy electric engine Electra had decided to stick around after the race, his repair car Wrench had stuck around as well. Getting a repair appointment with her was much easier than getting seen at the AL&W locomotive shop.

                “Um, hello? Wrench?” Rusty poked his head into the shed that Wrench had claimed as her repair shop. Pearl, at his side for emotional support, squeezed his hand comfortingly.

                “Well, if it isn’t the World Champion.” Wrench looked up from whatever project she was tinkering on and waved him in, pointing towards the repair berth in the center of the room. “What’s bothering you?”

                “I just. Don’t feel good.” Rusty said vaguely, climbing up onto the repair slab. “I threw up yesterday, but I’m too hungry to stop eating.”

                Wrench stared at him like she dearly wished to smack him. “Well, starving yourself doesn’t help anything. If you’re hungry, it’s because your body wants you to eat. If you’re throwing it up, either something is wrong with the fuel, or your fueling system.”

                “He’s also tired all the time and has been having firebox flares.” Pearl supplied helpfully.

                That made Wrench furrow her eyebrows, “Steam engines are not my specialty, but that doesn’t sound normal. I’ll do a simple scan and see if I can spot anything obvious.”

                Rusty fidgeted in place nervously as Wrench stared at him unblinkingly, glowing blue eyes slowly making their way from head to toe. When her gaze reached his midsection, though, she stopped dead and her eyes went wide.

                “What?” Rusty gripped Pearl’s hand tighter, worried he was about to be told his newly healed body was breaking down around him.

               

                “Well.” Wrench straightened up, still looking rather surprised. “You aren’t sick. You’re pregnant.”

                “W-what?” Rusty wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “I. I can’t be.”

                “I’m getting a pretty clear life signal from your abdomen. Which only means one thing. That, plus your symptoms. . .” Wrench spread her hands. “Congrats.”

                “But. But. Don’t you need to have sex to get pregnant?” Rusty’s voice grew a bit more hysterical, while Pearl was staring at him as though he’d grown a second head.

                “That is the general idea, yes.” Wrench deadpanned. “You’re an adult engine, you should know the basics of how trainlets are made.”

                “Well, _we’ve_ never done anything.” Pearl said slowly. Though the two had done a little heavy petting in the berth, they hadn’t gotten any further yet. “Did- did something happen during the races?”

                “I’m a virgin!” Rusty exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ve never done anything like.  . . _that!_ ”

“Well. Have you been giving blowjobs and swallowing lately?” Wrench was pretty sure of what her scanners were telling her. “It’s unusual, but you can get pregnant from drinking ejaculate.”

                “No! I’ve never-“ Rusty took a few deep breaths, feeling his steam pressure starting to rise as he got more stressed.

                “Maybe it’s something else?” Pearl suggested, just as confused as her boyfriend but handling it slightly better. “Could you be reading the scans wrong?”

                “My scanning systems are the most sophisticated on the market and perfectly functional.” Wrench was offended at the suggestion that she could be misinterpreting something, but bent down and placed both hands on Rusty’s abdomen anyway for a better look. “I can definitely see a trainlet. It looks to be about 8 weeks along, which means you kindled right around the time of the world races.”

                At that point, Rusty’s eyes rolled back into his head and everything went black.

 

 

                “Rusty? Rusty, are you okay?”

                Rusty groaned, slowly coming around. Someone was running their fingers through his hair, a gentle sensation that made all his joints relax back into the berth he was laying on. Then, of course, he remembered just _why_ he was on the berth and shot upright.

                “Whoa there, calm down, steam train.” Wrench came in to view, adjusting the berth to a reclined sitting position so that she could gently push Rusty into a more relaxed pose. “Stress isn’t good for you or the trainlet. Drink some oil, eat some crackers, relax.” She pressed a few plain metal wafers and a can of lubricating oil into his hands.

                Rusty obediently munched on one of the wafers, finding it almost completely tasteless but at least willing to stay down. A few sips of the thick steam engine lube oil was a little more difficult, but Rusty made himself swallow and took a few deep breaths until the nausea faded.

                “Now then. I took the liberty of researching steam engine pregnancy while you were having your little nap.” Though Wrench was trying to nice, it was impossible to keep her natural abrasiveness from shining through. “And you steamers are known for difficult, risky gestations. Which means that you are officially off of all work, effective immediately. No trains, no shunting, no anything.”

                “What?” Rusty had only just gotten his own passenger train, and now he had to stop everything? “I can’t just stop working, who’ll pull the daily commuter express?”

                “Well, I did just finish pulling all the dents out of Greaseball.” Wrench stepped in front of Rusty to force him to look directly at her, voice growing very serious. “Right now you have two choices. You either stop working, take care of yourself, and do everything I say. Or, I can terminate it.”

                “T-terminate?” Such a thing hadn’t even occurred to Rusty. Next to him, Pearl gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

                “Yes. I manually shut off your gestation chamber, and your body re-absorbs everything inside.” Wrench said it as clinically as possible. “You’ll feel sick and sore for a week or two, then you’ll be back to normal.”

                “I-“ Such a decision was too daunting for Rusty to make just then. This was all just too much for him to deal with.

                “Look, you can have a week to decide.” Wrench could see he wasn’t up to make the choice that day. “Come back in next Monday and tell me what you want to do. Until then, _no work whatsoever_. I’ll call Control and tell him you’re on medical leave as soon as you’re out of here. Eat plain crackers to help with the nausea, drink your oil slowly, keep your tender topped off, try not to get too stressed.”

                “I’ll make sure he remembers,” Pearl promised as she helped Rusty off the berth and out the door.

                Rusty was silent and appeared rather shell-shocked the entire way back to his shed, where he finally collapsed to the berth with a loud groan.

                “Are you going to be okay, Rusty?” Pearl asked, sitting next to him and returned her hand to his hair, petting the soft brown locks in a way she knew he liked. “Did- did one of the other racers do something to you during the races? I won’t judge you if they did.”

                It took Rusty a moment to get what Pearl was implying, then a horrified look came over his face. “What? No, no! I mean, CB made me crash and then Greaseball and his gang beat me up, but they didn’t do _that_.”

                “Oh. So how did-?” Pearl’s other hand slowly made its way down to gently lay over his middle. Over the _trainlet_.

                “I don’t know!” Rusty was pretty damn sure that spontaneous self-impregnation wasn’t a thing, but he was also quite certain he’d never had anyone else’s spike inside him. He’d never heard of something like this happening. But. Maybe someone else had. “I think I need to go talk to Poppa.”

                “Do you want me to come with?” Pearl offered.

                “No, I’ll be okay. I know you have an afternoon train today.” Though Rusty had been banned from work, he didn’t want to keep Pearl from her jobs as well. “I’m sure he’s not too far, he’s taken charge of the switching in the freight yard.”

                The pair left the shed a little while later and went their separate ways, Pearl to the station for her train and Rusty to the freight yard to find Poppa.

                Fortunately for Rusty, the old steam engine was taking a break on the trackside, singing to pass the time and entertain the cars as he usually did. Rusty waited for him to finish, before pulling him aside for a little more privacy.

                “Poppa, Poppa, I gotta talk to you!” Rusty tugged on the older steamer’s arm, ignoring the curious looks from the boxcars.

                “Whoa there, slow down Rusty.” Poppa allowed himself to be pulled away, out of earshot of the freight yard and the other trainfolk. “What’s wrong?”

                “I mean,” Rusty took off his hat and wrung it in his hands, trying to figure out just how to put everything into words. “I’ve been feeling real sick lately, and I finally went to see Wrench today and she says I’m pregnant!”

                Poppa looked very surprised indeed at this news, but after a moment a huge grin spread across his face and he clapped Rusty on the back, “Well congratulations, son! You and Pearl must have gotten real busy these last few weeks. How far along are ya?”

                “8 weeks,” Rusty frowned, a little annoyed that Poppa wasn’t freaking out about this like he should be. “And me and Pearl haven’t ever had sex! That’s the problem!”

                “You ain’t cheatin’ on that poor girl, are you?” Poppa dearly hoped he’d taught Rusty better than that.

                “What? No!” Rusty couldn’t even bear to think about it. “But what. What if something happened during the races and I just don’t remember?” It was the only explanation he could think of. That maybe he had blacked out during his crash or blocked something out of his memory. That maybe one of the other racers had.  .. taken advantage of him. Unlikely, but what other answer was there?

                “Can’t be.” Poppa shook his head. “Son, with your health and how damaged your repair system was then, it’d have been impossible for your gestation chamber to activate. It had to have happened after you were healed. Or-“ He seemed to have a sudden realization. “ _When_ you were healed.”

                “What are you saying?” Rusty wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

                “To active a train’s reproductive systems, you need two things. A healthy body with an excess of metals and materials, and a spark of the life-magic from another inside that body. When the Starlight Express came down and sang to you and healed you, did it feel like his life force entered your body?”

                Well, that was one way to describe the feeling of warmth and euphoria that had filled Rusty just before that final race. A somewhat horrified expression came over Rusty’s face. “Are you saying I had weird magic sex with the Starlight Express and now I’m pregnant?!”

                “Stranger things have happened.” Poppa said with a shrug.

                “ _When?!_ ” Rusty sank down into a crouch, holding his head in his hands.

                “Look, Rusty,” Poppa lowered himself down to his knees next to the younger steamer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know this probably ain’t easy, and is sure unexpected. But this is obviously a gift to you from the Starlight himself.”

                “But I can’t have a trainlet! I’m too young, I’m not ready!” Rusty’s eyes began to burn, and a few tears dripped down his cheeks.

                Poppa immediately gathered his adopted son into a big hug, “Rusty, I’ve sheltered you your whole life, and maybe that weren’t right of me. You’re an adult engine now, and Pearl has grown up too. I know you two are still younger than most in the yard, but you have to face the world someday. Nobody is ready for their first trainlet, but you ain’t alone. You’ve got me, and Belle, and ev’rybody else in this yard. We’re here to help you.”

                “Thanks, Poppa.” Rusty wiped his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I think. I’d like to go back to my shed for a while.”

                “Well come on, I’ll give you a hand.” Poppa found his wheels, then reached down to help tug Rusty back upright as well. “I’ve never been pregnant myself, but I’ve helped out a few friends that have been back in the day. It’s important to sit and relax.”

                The two steamers skated back towards the engine sheds, Rusty leaning on Poppa for support as he had often done when upset in his younger years. Back then, Rusty had usually been found angry-crying in quiet corner over teasing and harassment from the local diesel engines. Now, the situation was quite different but Rusty was glad he still had Poppa there to put some sense back into him.

                Poppa offered to stick around for a while, but Rusty waved him off. He wanted to be alone for a little bit, just to think about things with nobody else there. Sitting on his berth, back against the wall, Rusty put both hands on his middle contemplatively.

                The metal there didn’t feel any different than it usually did. It was warm, but that was from proximity to his firebox. There wasn’t any bulge or bump, no indication at all of what was happening inside. Of the little trainlet that was apparently growing in there.

                Idly, Rusty found himself wondering what the little one would look like. He had never seen a real trainlet before, but he imagined they probably looked rather like human babies, which he had seen a few of in passenger service. An infant coach would be so adorable, but it was unlikely that the trainlet would resemble Pearl in any way. Would the little one be half god then? It was a bizarre thought.

                Maybe it would look like him. A miniature steam engine with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. Rusty slowly slipped off to sleep where he sat with that thought on his mind, and a slight smile on his lips.

                Pearl found him that way a little while later, slumped over in a way that couldn’t be comfortable with hands laced over his abdomen and a bit of drool dripping from his mouth. Laughing quietly at the sight, she gently maneuvered him to lay down on the berth so his backstrut wouldn’t hurt in the morning and removed his hat to set it aside on a small shelf. Rusty let out a quiet groan as he was repositioned, opening his eyes and blinking at the blur of pink filling his vision.

                “Hi, Rusty.” She said with a giggle, sitting down on the berth next to him. “You must have been real tired.”

                “Yeah,” Rusty blushed, shifting to lie more comfortably on his side. “I talked to Poppa a little bit.”

                “About, you know?” She nodded towards his middle, where one of his hands still rested.

                “Yeah. He thinks that the Starlight Express did this to me.” It sounded a little ridiculous to say it aloud. “You know. When he healed me.”

                Pearl took a moment to process that. “Well. I suppose that’s as good an answer as any.”

                She curled up closer to him and the two sat in silence for a little while. Rusty was about to drop back to sleep when Pearl spoke again.

                “Hey Rusty. Could I, maybe, feel?” She asked softly, looking at his abdomen with a hand outstretched.

                In response, Rusty took her hand and brought it to his midsection. “There’s nothing to feel yet, though. I tried.”

                “But there will be soon.” Pearl had spent the day thinking about what it might look like in another month or two, when Rusty would develop a little roundness to his tummy as evidence of the trainlet growing inside. “If you keep it, I mean.”

                “Yeah.” Rusty looked down at his middle contemplatively. “I think I might. Keep it, I mean. It’s just. Kinda scary.”

                “Well, you’ve got me.” Pearl laced her fingers into his and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

                Rusty gave a happy hum and cuddled her closer. Things seemed a little more manageable now.

 

 

                The next week passed surprisingly quickly, despite Rusty being on leave from work. He spent the time in the yard talking with Poppa and his friends, taking day naps, and making sure to eat plenty. (Since switching only to mostly flavorless crackers, he found himself only throwing up maybe once a day, a grand improvement) Rusty hadn’t told anyone except Poppa about the whole pregnancy business, since he didn’t want to say anything until he was completely for sure he was going to go through with it, but as the days passed it got more and more tempting.

                He and Pearl had started having discussions about the future, about what the trainlet might be like. Brainstorming names, some for engines and some for coaches, or imagining what it would be like to teach the little one to skate and to race. Gradually, the reality of the trainlet became less daunting. Still intimidating, but Rusty was becoming more confident that he would be able to handle it.

                By the time the week went by, Rusty was ready to go back to the repair shed and told Wrench he’d like to keep the trainlet. She nodded, and immediately launched into lecturing him about what he was and was not allowed to do during the next seven months or so.

                Steam engines required a lot of maintenance and care to operate properly, even when they were healthy and in regular service.  A steam engine who was currently building an entirely new train inside of them even more so. Rusty was told he now had a speed limit (no more than 15mph allowed), needed to report to the engine works for a boiler blow down and clean once a month, and was given a list of his daily dietary needs, indexed by week.

                Finally, Wrench broke out the power tools and carefully pried off the heavy steel plating that shielded his abdomen.

                “Your body cavity is so tightly packed, considering your boiler, firebox, and all the other crap you need to run, your gestation chamber is mostly going to grow _out_.” Wrench held her hands out in front of her as though she were cradling a giant watermelon for emphasis.

                Rusty kicked his feet and looked down at the layer of rubber now exposed by the removal of his abdominal armor. He still looked pretty skinny. “I can’t tell any difference.”

                “Well not yet.” Wrench took Rusty’s hand and guided it down low, just above his pelvic armor. Under his fingers, Rusty suddenly felt a firm little mass. “There. That’s your gestation chamber. The trainlet is still just a tiny collection of struts right now, barely formed. But it isn’t going to stay small for very long.”

                “Oh! I wanna feel.” Pearl pushed her hand in next to Rusty’s and pressed gently until she found the small bulge of his gestation chamber as well. “Oh my Starlight. Rusty, that’s really the baby?”

                “I- I guess,” Rusty couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “ _Our_ baby.”              

                “Yes. Ours,” Pearl confirmed, kissing him on the cheek. A few feet away, Wrench turned around so the happy couple wouldn’t see her gag at the saccharine sight.

               

 

                Now that Rusty’s abdominal armor had been removed, it was time to spread the news to the rest of the trainyard. Best to make an official announcement rather than let people speculate. There were already rumors going around as to what Rusty had done to need a week of medical leave.

                The reaction of much of the yard to the news was complete disbelief, though most of the trainfolk who were closer to Rusty were quite excited for him as well. In particular the coaches, who had always seen Rusty as a cute younger-brother type to be coddled and looked after. Rusty was sure he wouldn’t have any trouble following his medical instructions, with every coach in the yard watching him like a mother hen. There was also a lot of winks in Pearl’s direction for being so virile that she managed to knock up her boyfriend in such a short amount of time. The couple had agreed that trying to explain the actual origins of the trainlet would be far too complicated, and it was best to simply let everyone believe Pearl was the other parent. It was still awkward to hear Buffy and Ashley speculating over what kind of wild and crazy sex they must be having, though, considering that Pearl and Rusty still had never gone beyond a little bit of touching with their panels still closed.

                Pearl had tried to go further a time or two, but Rusty was so shy about his body they never got very far. As touches got more intimate, he would blush and stammer and his steam pressure would start to rise. Once, Pearl even got him to blow his main safety valve by just rubbing his codpiece.

                It was a little frustrating, but Pearl was willing to wait. She had seen where impatience and indecisiveness had gotten her; and had learned from her experience at the races. Greaseball had hardly looked twice at her during their short time together, and Electra had treated her more like a bauble to be shown off than a person. Even Rusty had originally seen her as a prize to be won, but he had clearly matured a little since then. Sure, he didn’t look quite like the engine from her dreams (though, since his transformation, he was significantly closer), but he was real and tangible and full of affection for her. And that’s what mattered.

                Secretly, though, Pearl hoped that the pregnancy might take their relationship a little further. Wrench had said to expect an increased desire for sex as the trainlet grew, both for crucial materials to support the trainlet’s growth and to strengthen the bond between mates. Maybe this would finally enable Rusty to push past his embarrassment.

                For now, though, the only noticeable change to Rusty was his appetite. After another week or so, assisted by Wrench’s diet plan, his nausea began to fade and was replaced by an increased hunger for anything and everything. Pearl was kept quite busy fetching crackers and oil for him, then later sweets and candy as his cravings changed. The other coaches were only too happy to assist, easily able to remember the years past when Rusty, so affected by his declining health, had to be cajoled to eat anything at all.

                With all his new free time, Rusty spent much of it in the yards hanging out and chatting with his friends and consequently was constantly being supplied with snacks. Whenever someone new came up they brought oil-filled copper nuggets or iron cakes with shredded steel shavings, pushing the treats into his hands with a wink and a comment about how he was “eating for two.”

                Rusty had always been quite skinny for a steam engine, but now he was really starting to fill out. There was a roundness to his cheeks and healthy glow to his plating that had never been there before. It helped, of course, that Rusty was so proud of his new, shining black paint that he spent quite a lot of time in the washracks detailing it whenever he noticed scuffs or soot.

                A few weeks later, there was a new development that wasn’t caused by increased appetite. It was Buffy who first noticed that Rusty’s middle was no longer flat, but now had a noticeable convex curve to it. As the coaches milled about under the awning at Victoria station, waiting for their morning train, Buffy glanced over at Rusty chatting with Pearl and gave a loud, “Awwww. Look everyone, Rusty’s started to show!”

                Rusty turned bright red as he suddenly became the center of everyone’s attention and glanced down to see that Buffy was right. That tiny bulge that he could barely feel a few weeks ago had gotten large enough that he now had the beginnings of a baby bump. The coaches immediately crowded around, all wanting to touch, and Rusty did his best to handle the sudden onslaught. He was a bit uncomfortable with all the hands petting his middle; but didn’t want to offend anyone by pulling away and so simply stood there and took it. Rusty was quite grateful when Pearl possessively wrapped arms around him and spread her hands over her boyfriend’s belly.

                “Oh, I see how it is.” Ashley said with a laugh. “Pearl staking her claim on her man.”

                “Yes. Yes I am.” Pearl smiled and kissed Rusty on the cheek. “My man, and my trainlet.”

                The blush on Rusty’s cheeks deepened and steam hissed from his pistons, making all the coaches giggle. The pair had officially progressed from “love-sick saps obviously perfect for eachother but too dumb to notice” to “most adorable couple in the yard.”

                Later that evening, Pearl showed her enthusiasm for this new feature by pressing kisses over every inch of Rusty’s baby bump. By the time she was done, Rusty was quite red and panting, steam puffing from his mouth in small clouds as evidence of how heated his systems had become. He eagerly responded when Pearl shifted to kiss his lips instead, pressing against her as though he never wanted their lips to separate again. His hands ran through her long, pink locks, daring to reach down and caress the curve of her butt beneath her skirt, but to Pearl’s disappointment things went no further than that. She didn’t complain too much, though, not when Rusty cradled her close and she fell asleep in his arms.

               

                Once Rusty began to show, he began to increase in girth rather quickly. Within the span of a month, he went from “barely there bulge” to “definitely pregnant,” a state that was getting him quite a lot of attention from others in the yard. Passing trainfolk from other railroads were especially excited, their desire to get a glimpse of the new World Racing Champion only compounded by the fact that said Champion was pregnant. Rusty endured the stares and requests to feel with good grace until things got to be too much, at which point he would politely excuse himself and retreat to his shed for some privacy.

                One such afternoon found Rusty hiding from a big freight movement in his shed, sitting on his berth and humming a little tune as he tried to relax. That’s when he felt something unusual from inside him. It was a fluttering sensation, almost like when he’d had a sticking water check valve the month before. But he’d had that taken care of during his last service, and this was coming from a different part of him anyway. He placed one hand on his belly and was surprised to feel the same fluttering against his palm. Suddenly, it dawned on him what was happening.

                “Are- are you moving around in there, little one?” Rusty spoke at his midsection in wonder. He laughed when the feeling got a little more forceful in response. “Yeah, that’s right, it’s me. Your-“ Rusty paused, starting to get a bit choked up. “Your dad. You’ll be safe in here, with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

                Later that evening, when Pearl returned from work, she found Rusty sitting on the berth with tear tracks on his face and a huge grin on his lips.

                “Pearl! I felt it move today.” He exclaimed, hands pressed to his belly.

                “You felt-? Oh, the trainlet! You felt it move?” Pearl came over in excitement, adding her hands to his middle.

                “Yeah. It was pretty faint, but definitely the trainlet.” Rusty waited in silence for the fluttering sensation to come again, and when it finally did he quickly moved Pearl’s hand over the spot. “See? Right there!”

                “Oh my Starlight!” There was barely anything to feel, only the lightest of nudges, but just the fact that it was the trainlet, alive and kicking, was enough for Pearl. That night, the two fell asleep with Pearl cuddling Rusty from behind, both hands still on his middle. Just in case.

 

                Now that the trainlet had started moving, it seemed quite eager to show off the ability. Rusty could never keep from smiling and laughing when he felt the light little kicks from his abdomen, and was only too happy to share with his friends if they were nearby.

                “He’ll be a strong engine.” Poppa complimented, removing his hand from Rusty’s belly. It was still incredible to him, to watch the engine he’d raised from infancy having a trainlet of his own. The old steam engine could still remember holding the tiny form of Rusty in his hands. As a newborn, Rusty had so small and lightweight. Much too light for a steam engine, even a very young one. Poppa had been pulling a train one day when he chanced to hear a faint cry from alongside the tracks. There in the grass had been a tiny, curled up steamlet, so cold he’d barely been able to move. Rusty’s body had never really recovered from the abandonment, and his health had always been rather poor, but Poppa had been so impressed with the sheer zeal for life the young steamer had shown.

                And now, here was his boy. Grown up, with a mate and a young ‘un on the way. Sure, the trainlet had a rather.  .. unconventional origin, but to Poppa that was just another sign that Rusty was blessed by the Starlight Express. And that was something he’d known ever since the day he found the young steamer in the weeds that day many years before.

 

               

                As the end of his fourth month of pregnancy approached, Rusty was surprisingly feeling great. The ‘nausea and throwing up’ phase had passed, leaving him able to eat and satisfy his cravings without fear. He felt full of energy as a result, his new black paint was gleaming, and everyone who saw him kept congratulating him on the trainlet. Even the usual yard bullies had given it a rest.

                Rusty had been skating a slow lap around the freight yard, stretching out his limbs and keeping the oil flowing, when he encountered a few members of Greaseball’s Gang. Tank, Gook, and Lube seemed as surprised to see him as he was them, and Rusty took a nervous step back as the three diesels stared at him. More specifically, at his belly.

                “Hey, guys.” Rusty moved his hands down to shield his midsection, body tensing. He’d never been much of a fighter, but he would do anything to protect his trainlet. Even if it meant standing up to the Gang. “What’s going on?”

                The diesel brothers didn’t move to beat him up, however. They just gave awkward smiles and shifted in place like they didn’t know quite what to do.

                “Hey, Rusty.” Gook wiggled his fingers in something that could be called a wave. “You’re looking-“

                “Kinda fat,” Lube blurted, interrupting his brother. “I mean. Not fat. Round!”

                Tank rolled his eyes and elbowed the both of them. “Looks like the kit is growin’ well. You, uh, you doin’ alright?”

                “Yeah. Wrench says the trainlet is doing really well.” Rusty couldn’t even managed to be offended, the lack of hostility had really thrown him off.

                “You and Pearl are real cute.” Lube added. “Like, you’re both so fluffy.”

                His brothers stared at him, Tank slowly shaking his head. After another minute of awkward staring, the three diesels got up and went to return to work. As they brushed past Rusty, Tank reached up and flicked off the steamer’s hat. Lube followed that with brief noogie to his curly hair, and finally Gook gave Rusty’s butt a little pinch that made the steamer yelp.

                “See ya around, steam train!” Tank called as they skated off.

                Rusty bent over and retrieved his hat, watching them go with some confusion. Compared to what they used to do to him, that had been almost.  . .affectionate.

 

                Later in the day, Greaseball pulled into the coach yard with the evening passenger train. Rusty was sitting over on one of the unused platforms, chatting with Carrie and Ashley as he waited for Pearl to get back from work, but stopped mid-sentence when Greaseball approached him.

                “Hey, steam train.” Greaseball stopped a few feet away, impressive arms folded over his chest.

                “What?” Rusty hunched over a little protectively. Greaseball had the potential to be a much more dangerous threat than his Gang.

                “I uh, I heard the gang bothered you some earlier today.” Greaseball’s stance relaxed a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. “They didn’t rough you up any, did they?”

                “Oh. No, they didn’t.” Well, they had given him a noogie and pinched his butt, but that hardly counted as roughing him up. Normally, encounters with the gang resulted in dents at the least.

                “Good.” Greaseball shifted uncomfortably. “I told them they ain’t allowed to wail on you anymore. Especially with, yannow. The kit and all. They give you any trouble, you just tell me.”

                “Thanks?” Rusty was still pretty confused, but at least he wasn’t getting made fun of or hit.

                Once again, Greaseball shifted his weight as though he’d like to leave, “And uh. Congrats and stuff. To you an’ Pearl. Me and Electra and CB were actin’ pretty stupid during that last race. You deserved to win. I could beat you in a fair race of course! But that weren’t fair, and I guess we got what was comin’ to us.”

                “Are you.  .. trying to apologize to me?” Rusty had never heard even such a round-about apology from the diesel before.

                “Yeah, sure. I guess. Whatever.” Greaseball turned a bit red and skated off.

                Pearl came over to join her boyfriend as the big diesel engine left, raising an eyebrow. “What did he want?”

                “I’m not entirely sure.” Rusty admitted. “But I think he just apologized to me.”

                “Huh,” Pearl seemed even more skeptical of that, but didn’t question it. Instead, she just tugged Rusty to his wheels to escort him back to their shed. She wanted some boyfriend time.

 

 

                As the month progressed, Rusty began discovering the downside of feeling good and having lots of energy. Sitting in the yard during the day, his thoughts would inevitably turn to Pearl. And the longer he let his mind wander in that direction, the lewder those thoughts got. Rusty would drift off, thinking about Pearl’s breasts or the lovely shape of her ass, until he noticed his crotch getting uncomfortably warm. And wet.

                Rusty might have been unexperienced in the ways of sex, but he wasn’t a fool and knew exactly what this meant. He was getting horny in the middle of the yard daydreaming about Pearl, like he was an adolescent engine all over again. It was embarrassing.

                One such afternoon, Rusty was forced to give Duvay and Buffy a hasty excuse and a goodbye so he could rush out of the yard before lubricant started to leak through his valve cover. He was so turned on it was hard to skate, and the minute he reached his shed he had his valve open and fingers from one hand inside to try and find relief.

                Collapsing on the berth, Rusty spread his legs wide to try and get a better angle for his exploration. His belly was now large enough to obstruct his view of his codpiece, forcing him to operate entirely by feel. After a few minutes, Rusty found a workable angle and started moving his finger in and out of his valve slowly. Though he had masturbated with his spike many times before, valve play was not something he’d ever tried. It felt good, very good, but it wasn’t quite _enough_.         

                Rusty was still frustrated and turned on, now trying out two fingers instead of one and still unsatisfied, when the door to the shed opened and he froze.

                Pearl stopped where she was in surprise as well, staring at the sight laid out before her. Rusty, reclined against the wall with his legs spread open and two fingers buried up to the knuckle in his dripping valve. The observation car’s spike pressurized in a rush, making a tent in her skirt, and she slowly moved forward towards her boyfriend.

                “Pearl!” Rusty turned bright red and yanked his fingers from his valve, crossing his legs to try and hide the mess he’d made on the berth. “I was just- just-“

                “Just looking for some help?” Pearl untied her skirt and tossed it aside, revealing her spike standing proud and hard. “Here, I have something that’s better than fingers.”

                Rusty’s mouth hung open as he saw his girlfriend’s equipment for the first time. Her spike was pink, a few shades lighter than the rest of her, with delicate overlapping panels like a flower. Suddenly, Rusty was struck by an intense desire to have it inside him, right now.

                Still, as Pearl climbed up onto the berth, he hesitated. “I, um. I don’t-“

                Pearl stopped where she was, sitting back on her heels and cocking her head. “Are you okay, Rusty?”

                “I’ve never-,” Rusty tried to explain. He’d never had sex. Never thought he’d be able to have sex. Never thought he’d find someone willing to do it with him. Years of taunts were running through his mind, telling him that no one wanted to _do it_ with someone so rusted. They catch his rust disease, or he’d corrode their valve with his spike, or his spike would fall off if he even tried. He shut his eyes tight, flinching when a gentle hand was laid on his cheek.

                “Rusty. Come on, look at me.” Slowly, Rusty opened his eyes again, Pearl’s lovely visage filling his field of view. “I know you’ve never done anything. I don’t mind. Let’s find stuff out together.”

                Finally, Rusty gave a brief nod. He _wanted_ to try. The only way to get over his fear was to face it.

                As Pearl’s hand found his valve, tracing the outer rim before briefly dipping inside, Rusty couldn’t hold in a moan. His fingers had felt good down there, but someone else’s felt _divine_. Gradually his body relaxed, legs opening against to allow Pearl access.

                “Let me know if this hurts, okay?” Pearl lined up their hips, letting the tip of her spike press against the entrance to his valve.

                Rusty’s breath stuttered as she began to ease inside, head tipping back from the intense sensations. The stretching, almost burn from his valve was a little uncomfortable, but that was overridden by just how _good_ it felt.

                Pearl was having some trouble holding it all together herself as she pressed deeper into her boyfriend’s very tight valve. He had obviously never used it before, but was at least well lubricated enough that her spike didn’t find too much resistance. The whimpers from Rusty were of pleasure, not pain, so he obviously was enjoying himself.

                “There. We go.” Pearl panted, finally seating herself fully inside of him. With their crotch plates now touching, she paused to let Rusty get used to the stretch. “How does that feel?”

                “Uhn. Uhh, good. S’good.” Rusty couldn’t come up with the words for how amazing it felt. He was filled in the best way possible, finally providing what he had been craving earlier. What his fingers alone couldn’t provide. “You’ve done this before?”

                “Once.” Pearl admitted. “With Buffy and Ashley. They wanted to make sure I knew what to do before I got with an engine.”

                Well, now Rusty didn’t feel quite so bad about being so new at all this. He’d had this mental image of Pearl with Electra or Greaseball, of her laughing at how terrible he was at this in contrast to the two more experienced racers.

                “Unn, Rusty. I’ve gotta move.” The urge to start thrusting was overpowering. Pearl rocked her hips, drawing a high pitched whine from Rusty and banishing all worries of inadequacy from his head. He couldn’t dwell on such things when he was feeling so good.

                As Pearl found a rhythm, it was all Rusty could do just to hold on. His hands roamed up and down her back, fingers tentatively stroking the curve of her butt. Pearl let out an appreciative moan, encouraging him to squeeze a little more tightly.

                “Ahh, Pearl! Don’ stop!” Rusty’s fire was burning so hot he was surprised Pearl hadn’t complained, steam pressure climbing in his boiler. The pressure in his pelvis was increasing too, as overload loomed. “I’m gonna, gonna-“

                His entire body went stiff as he threw his head back, the steam pressure in his boiler escaping through his whistles with a loud, six-chime scream. Pearl thrust a few more times before cresting the peak as well, curling into Rusty as she emptied herself into him.

                The wail of Rusty’s whistle died away to a moan before fading completely, and then the only sound in the shed for a few minutes was of overheated panting.

                “I. Am the luckiest guy in the world.” Rusty said breathlessly, looking at Pearl who was draped over him. Her face was flushed red and her pink hair had frizzed all over the place, and she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

                “We’re both lucky,” Pearl brought up a hand to gently rub at his belly. That had been better than she had ever imagined, and absolutely worth waiting for. There was a kick under her hand, making her giggle. “And no, we haven’t forgotten about you, little one.”

                “I love you, Pearl.” Rusty said in a sudden fit of emotions, eyes starting to get a little wet. “So much.”

                “I love you too, Rusty.” Pearl gave him a kiss before laying her head on his chest. Their fingers laced together atop his belly, feeling the occasional kick from their unborn offspring, and slowly the pair fell asleep.

               


End file.
